Lockdown
by Sandpiper
Summary: Regina is a warden attempting to deal with rumblings of violence in her prison, and an inmate who may be more than he seems.
1. Prologue

Author's Notes: This started as a prompt from Imagine_OQ "Imagine Regina as the warden of a prison and Robin as an inmate she refuses to admit she's attracted to." Well what was probably intended to a crackish prompt instead turned into full blown crime drama!

Be warned, this will feature frank portrayals of violence, sexuality, criminal activity.

 _Prologue:_

" _Robin Locksley, you have been convicted by jury of the crimes of gross sexual assault, and murder in the second degree._

 _I have heard statements from the district attorney as well as your own attorney, and reviewed the pre-sentence report. The pre-sentence report recommends the maximum sentence of life imprisonment without the possibility of parole. The Court has the ability to accept this recommendation or impose a different sentence. However, in this state, your crimes carry a mandatory minimum sentence of 25 years._

 _Having reviewed the case I find your actions during and after these crimes particularly vicious, and lacking in remorse._

 _Therefore, I accept the Department of Corrections' recommendation and sentence you to life in prison without possibility of parole. You will be remanded into the custody of the Maine Department of Corrections."_


	2. Chapter 1

_Three years later…_

"Yes?" Regina Mills picked her phone up off the receiver.

"Regina, there's a sheriff here to see you. Keith Nottingham," her assistant informed her.

Regina pinched her nose in frustration, "Alright send him in."

She tossed the phone back onto the receiver with a sigh.

Nottingham. He was the sheriff of Misthaven. The next town over from Storybrooke where Regina lived. He and Regina had also gone on one particularly unpleasant blind date recently, and he made it no secret that he'd like another.

She stood as the door to her office opened, and the man slinked inside.

"Regina," he grinned, "Such a lovely sight as always-"

"Keith," she cut him off, shutting the door behind him, "You can't just come around where I work. I already told you that I don't see this going anywhere-"

He held up one hand, "I'm not here about us, darling, though we can discuss that later if you like. Maybe over drinks?"

She gritted her teeth.

"I'm here about a prisoner. Robin Locksley. British national from my town," Nottingham answered.

"I see. What did you want to speak with him about?"

"I don't want to speak to him. Don't ever want to speak to him again," he said adamantly, "I'm actually here because he's appealing his conviction."

"Yes, I think I remember something about that. His court date is pretty soon, right?"

"Next month," Nottingham said, "And I'd like to see to it the son of a bitch stays right here where he belongs!"

"Well, most convicts try getting their sentence turned over on appeal," she pointed out, "Does the district attorney think there's something to be worried about?"

"No, but I want to be sure," Nottingham hitched his pant leg up and relaxed into the chair across her desk, "Tell me. How have you found him?"

"Locksley?" she asked, "Model prisoner, actually."

He frowned, "Really?"

She shrugged, "I was a little surprised, too, but yes."

"He raped and murdered his wife."

Regina nodded, "I'm familiar with his case. Since he's been in here, though, he hasn't been any trouble."

Nottingham pulled a face, "Well the man can be quite charming."

"Excuse me?" she asked.

"I just hope the judge isn't as easy swayed."

"I beg your pardon-" her indignant response was cut off by the phone ringing again.

She answered it angrily, listening to her assistant on the other end of the line. Her eyes widened in surprise as the news was delivered.

"Okay, tell them I'll be there in a minute," she answered, setting the phone down.

"Problem?" Nottingham asked.

"Yes," Regina said, "Apparently your man Locksley was just stabbed in a knife fight."

* 0 * 0 * 0 * 0 * 0 *

Regina's heels clicked down the concrete corridor as she made her way down to the infirmary.

She was fuming mad.

A knife fight in her prison!

They hadn't had a problem with weapons in months. In fact, her prison had the lowest incidence of inmate violence rate in the state; a statistic she worked hard to accomplish, and took pride in.

Even worse, it had happened while Nottingham was there, and one of the inmates involved had been one she'd just described as model prisoner.

The look on his face had been so very smug.

She huffed, still angry over the sexist son-of-a-bitch's suggestion that she'd been "charmed" by Locksley.

She'd been around violent criminals her whole career. She wasn't about to be taken in by one of them. Particularly not a rapist and murder!

Regina rounded the corner, relieved to find the nurse and her head CO waiting for her in the hall.

"What have we got?" she asked.

"Homemade shiv," Graham answered, holding up an evidence bag, "Toothbrush."

She took bag to examine it more closely. The plastic handle of the brush had been broken off rather than carved down. The jagged edge was short, but definitely sharp enough to do some damage, as the drying blood on it attested.

She looked up, "Only one?"

"Yeah," he nodded, "We searched both of them thoroughly before bringing them to the infirmary, but didn't find anything else."

"Do we know who it belonged to?"

Graham smirked humorlessly, "The usual story. No one saw anything, no one knows anything."

Regina turned to Belle, "Injuries?"

"The usual black eyes and bruised knuckles on both of them. Heller has a mild orbital fracture. It'll heal on it's own so long as he doesn't get into any more fights. Locksley was grazed on his left side. Likely with that," she nodded to the shiv in Regina's hands, "Deep, but didn't penetrate the abdominal wall. I stitched him up. He'll need the doctor to write a script for antibiotics to prevent infection, but he should be fine."

"Neither needs to be transferred to a hospital?" she questioned.

"Not at this time," Belle confirmed.

"That's all I need to hear," Regina grumbled as she threw open the infirmary door and stormed inside. Locksley and Heller were shackled to chairs on opposite sides of the room. Both were already showing obvious signs of the beating they'd just taken; Heller a bit more so.

She came to a stop in the middle of the room, "Alright, who's going to explain what happened?"

Heller refused to meet her eyes. Locksley looked directly at her, but his expression was unreadable.

She tapped her fingers against the crook of her elbow, "Gentlemen, it is 5 o'clock on a Friday afternoon, and I am in no mood. I strongly suggest that one of you start talking."

Predictably, neither did.

She sighed, "Alright, have it your way. Humbert, toss both their cells, and toss them into isolation for the weekend."

* 0 * 0 * 0 * 0 * 0 *

Regina got home slightly late that night. There was really no such thing as rush hour traffic in rural Maine, but she'd had to fill out incident reports on the fight.

Pressing the button on the garage door remote, she shut off her car and took a deep breath. Leaving the job behind when she got home was a rule of hers.

Once she felt calm she stood and walked inside where she was greeted by Batman: Arkham City blaring from the livingroom.

With an annoyed sigh she removed her blue blazer and hung it in the hall closet.

"Henry," she called, turning the corner.

"Hey Mom," he called back without looking away from the television.

"Henry!" she repeated firmly. Apparently he noticed because he paused the game and turned to her.

"That's too loud. Turn it down, please," she

He picked up the remote and cranked the volume down, "Sorry."

Her son knew better than to roll his eyes at her, but she could hear it in his voice well enough.

Regina crossed her arms.

"How was work?" Henry asked, smiling innocently. He was clearly trying to distract her from that small bit of sass...but it worked.

"It was fine," she answered tiredly, "And yourself? How was school."

"It was okay."

"Homework?" she asked.

"A little," he shrugged.

Regina looked at him expectantly.

"It's Friday, Mom!"

"Responsibilities don't stop for a weekend," she reminded him.

"I know. I'll get it done."

She wasn't totally pleased with that answer, but reminded herself that he was getting older and she had to start allowing him to make more of his own choices.

"Alright," she gave in with a sigh. Shaking off her discomfort with relinquishing control, she walked over to sit down on the couch next to him, "What would you like for dinner?"

"Pizza?" he offered.

With a smirk Regina nodded, "Chicken and squash gratin it is."

"Aw, Mom!" he groaned as she stood.

"I don't want to hear it, young man," she cut him off, "unless you're going to start doing the cooking around here?"

He looked almost comically horrified at the thought.

She chuckled as she stood.

"1 more hour only," she warned on her way to the kitchen.

Blocking out the sounds of her son's video game, she set to work slicing up leftover chicken breasts and yellow squash.

In truth, cooking was one chore she didn't mind handling on her own. She found the repetitive motions of cleaning and chopping vegetables meditative, and measuring and keeping track of ingredients required just enough focus to keep her mind from drifting. It was soothing after a difficult day.

She was sprinkling the layers of squash and chicken with parmesan cheese when she heard Arkham City stop in the background.

Glancing at her watch, she noted it had only been 20 minutes. That was surprising, though she wasn't going to complain if Henry decided to voluntarily limit his screen time.

"Mom!" he bellowed from the other room, footsteps thudding down the hall, "Who's Keith Nottingham?"

She looked up, "What?"

Henry held up her phone which was still ringing, flashing Keith's name across the screen in white letters.

"Oh my-" she groaned, slamming down the cheese grater. She took the phone from his hand and pressed the 'ignore' button.

With an irritated huff, she tossed the phone on to the kitchen counter and went back to grating.

"Well?" Henry asked.

"Well what?" Regina asked.

"Who was that?"

"No one you need to be concerned about," Regina said as she wrapped the cheese back up and handed it to Henry, "Put this away, please."

"Mom-"

"He's the sheriff of Misthaven," she answered, "Put the cheese away!"

Henry took the cheese to the fridge and set it inside, "Well, why did you hang up on him?"

"Because I'm off duty right now," she answered.

"You just told me responsibilities don't stop for weekends," Henry pointed out.

Regina paused in the middle of wrapping the baking dish in foil, muttering in her head about the aggravation of teenagers.

"It isn't work related, or the office would have called me," she finally answered.

"If it isn't work related then why is he calling you?" Henry asked slyly.

"Why are you so interested? Hm?" she asked as she put their dinner in the oven and closed the door, "Don't you get enough gossip at school?"

"I'm just wondering because you usually always answer your phone," he responded, "Was this the guy you went out with last week?"

Regina hoped the surprise didn't show on her face. Her son was really too smart for his own good. No real point in lying, though.

"Yes."

"So why didn't you answer the call?"

A wicked smile crossed her lips, "Because tonight I'm having dinner with my little prince."

With that she grabbed his head and leaned forward to press a kiss against his cheek, making sure to leave behind lipstick.

"Ugh, Mom!" he pulled away, rubbing away the greasy mark.

She laughed, "Set the table, please."

He sighed audibly, but did as asked.

"You should call him back you know," Henry suggested.

"Excuse me?" she asked.

"I'm just saying-"

"Henry," Regina cut him off, "This really isn't your concern."

"Yeah it is," he argued, "You're my mom. I want you to be happy."

"Well, I appreciate that, but I assure you I am perfectly happy," she answered, "I have everything I need with just the two of us."

"Yeah," he nodded, "But there's no reason it couldn't be just the three of us someday."

Regina shook her head, "Well I'll take that under advisement, young man, and be sure to let you know."

"Good, because I want to meet him if you go out with him again," Henry answered.

"Oh, is that so?"

"Yeah, make sure he's okay."

"Go wash up," she changed the subject with an eyeroll.

As he jogged to the bathroom, she laughed at how grown up her son apparently thought he was. Though, she didn't doubt he'd fail to approve of Nottingham. She'd raised her son to be sharp enough to pick up on someone so blatantly sleazy. Which was exactly why Nottingham wasn't going to get anywhere close to meeting her son!


	3. Chapter 2

"Mills," Regina answered her phone in between sips of coffee while filling out paperwork.

"CO Humbert has Callum Gold here for you," her secretary informed her.

Regina cleared her throat, "Send him in."

She quickly straightened the paperwork up and put it safely away in a desk drawer to be filed later.

Her office door opened and Humbert lead in the shackled prisoner.

Callum Gold was definitely one of the strangest inmates under her watch. He was a local organized crime figure who'd been convicted of racketeering and loan sharking. When he first arrived at the prison he hadn't seemed like much. A slender and somehow delicate looking man in his 50s whom Regina easily stood eye-to-eye with in 4 inch heels. She'd been afraid they'd have to transfer him to protective custody the first day.

Instead he became one of the most respected, and even feared inmates that the prison. She'd tried her damndest to find out why, but he was aggravatingly good at hiding his true intentions. Of the little she did manage to uncover, he'd gained the alias "The Dealmaker" among the prison population. The only real intel on why, though, was that he was the go-to person for luxuries like cookies, chips, and cigarettes. Drugs and other contraband too, she was fairly certain, but she could never prove it.

At this morning's staff meeting a few COs had mentioned hearing rumors that last week's shiv incident been almost inevitable because weapons were being passed around the prison. No word on how they were getting in or who had them, though.

"Warden Mills," he greeted as Graham shoved him down into a chair across from her desk, "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"I've been hearing, Gold, that there are weapons in this prison," she

"Ah yes, nasty business that," he commented.

"What do you know about it?" she asked.

"Well that there was a fight at chow a few days ago and someone pulled out a shiv," he answered with a shrug, "But that's just what what I heard on the grapevine, of course."

"I think you know more than that," she challenged.

"Such as?"

"Come on, Gold! We both know that you know everything that goes on in this prison."

"I'm flattered you think me so informed," he answered, "but I'm afraid I've absolutely no idea to what you're referring."

Regina frowned, "Alright, Gold, if that's the way you want to play it...but if I find out you lied to me I will make your life here very difficult!"

He smirked as if the threat amused him. Regina ignored his smugness, and motioned to Graham to take him back to his cell.

"Always lovely speaking with you, Warden," Gold said as Graham hauled him up out of the chair and passed him off to another CO.

As Gold was led back down the hall, Graham let the door to her office swing closed

"That was a waste of time," he commented

Regina quirked her lips warily, "Talking to Gold usually is, but he was, unfortunately, our best lead."

"Not our only lead, though" he argued, "What about the two inmates who were actually involved in the fight? One of them had the shiv, so one of them obviously knows something about where the weapons are coming from!"

"Locksley and Heller, though," Regina pointed out, "Locksley is a murderer which would usually make him the most likely suspect except that he was the one who was stabbed...and the other person involved as was Heller!"

Graham shrugged, "I didn't say they were perfect leads, just that we had them."

She rubbed fingers across her forehead in frustration. Locksley may have been the violent criminal, but Heller was one of the biggest annoyances to her as warden. He was serving 10 years for fraud. A pathological liar and constant troublemaker. Just about the least trustworthy person to go for accurate information!"

With a sigh she made a decision, "Bring me Locksley."

* 0 * 0 * 0 * 0 * 0 *

Locksley looked drawn and tired as he was lead into her office. He seemed calm, though, which was a good sign.

Solitary confinement was integral to the operation of a prison, but some inmates didn't do so well with it.

Once he was sitting the chair across her desk, she motioned for Graham to give them some space. He stepped out into the hall, leaving the door open for safety.

"Locksley. How's your side feeling?" she asked, deciding not to start off too hard.

"It's felt better, but I'm told I'll live."

She studied him, sarcasm but not overt hostility, "Well, I'll get straight to the point then. I wanted to give you the one more opportunity to tell me what happened on Friday, and, if you choose to do so, I might be convinced to cut your stay in isolation short."

He cleared his throat, meeting her eyes directly, "I was at third meal. Minding my own. Suddenly, Heller came over and started getting in my face. I pushed him away. Next thing I know he pulled out the shiv and came at me."

Regina raised an eyebrow, "That's it?"

"Yes, that's what happened."

"And what exactly was Heller hassling you about?"

"I have no idea."

She sighed.

"The man can talk for days and not say a thing!" Locksley insisted, "I don't know what he was on about, but...later in the infirmary, after Nurse French got done stitching me, he said something...odd."

"Odd how?" Regina questioned.

"He said he was sorry and that he didn't actually mean it," he answered, "At the time I thought he was talking about the shiv, but now...I think he meant what he said about my wife."

"Your wife?"

"Yes, in the canteen when he came up to me he was saying a bunch of things, but then he started going on about my wife. Things I'd rather not repeat," Locksley explained, "so I got pissed off. That's when I shoved him and he took out the shiv."

Regina ground her teeth in annoyance, "Locksley, I gave the opportunity to be honest with me and I don't appreciate you wasting my time!"

"What do you mean?" he asked, looking genuinely confused.

She stood from her desk, "Humbert!"

Graham rounded the corner.

"No wait!" Locksley protested, "What is it you think I've lied to you about?"

"So far just about everything," she answered.

"Well I haven't!"

"You expect me to believe that you were shanked in a knife fight that a fellow inmate started for no apparent reason, and you were just defending yourself and the honor of your wife whom you just happen to be here for killing?"

"I didn't kill, Marian."

"You were convicted of her rape and murder."

"I didn't kill my wife!" he repeated, "I'm innocent."

She heard Graham short under his nose. Regina resisted the urge to do the same, but couldn't resist muttering, "Yeah, funny how many innocent people we have in here."

"I hope not," Locksley answered in what had to be one of the most sincere and completely non-antagonistic tones she'd ever heard. It was unnerving.

He sighed, "Please, Warden, you told me you would take me out of solitary-"

"I said 'might', and that was if you told the truth!"

"I have!"

When she didn't answer he leaned forward slightly, causing Graham to immediately step closer, nightstick at the ready.

"Look, if I were going to lie, I'd have told a more convincing one than that if it'd get me out of solitary!"

"You seem pretty desperate for that," she observed, "It's only been two days. Any particular reason why?"

"My attorney is coming this week to discuss my case," he answered, "She's also bringing a friend whom I'd very much like to speak to."

Regina considered this. His story wasn't very believable, and she'd seen plenty of people lie even when it wasn't in their best interest to; particularly in prison. Which is why she was surprised when she heard herself say, "Alright, Locksley, I'll look into what you told me about the fight. See if anyone will corroborate your story."

"And if they do?"

"If they do, and I'm convinced there won't be any more trouble, I'll move you back into gen. pop. I'm not making any promises, though," she answered.

"Thank you," he said as Graham guided him to his feet and towards the door.

Once again he seemed so sincere that she almost wanted to ask what he was thanking her for.


	4. Chapter 3

A faceless CO lead him into the office and shoved him down into the chair in front of her desk.

The characteristic click of stiletto heels against concrete gave away her entrance.

"Give us a minute," she ordered.

The door closed with a slam, and blinds clicked as she closed them. With a few steps she moved to stand in between his chair and the desk, rather than going around to her usual seat behind it.

As she leaned back against the edge of the desk, against his best efforts, his eyes drifted downward. Her long skirt was split high revealing her creamy leg almost to the hip. While he was distracted by the sight of her exposed skin, she grabbed the cuffs around his wrists and undid the locks. They clicked open and dropped to the floor with a harsh clatter.

He looked up at her in surprise, "What are you-"

The question was cut off by her lips against his, startling him into silence.

She pulled back, cupping his cheek, "It's alright. I know you're innocent."

"You do?" he asked.

"Of course, I've always known," she answered, leaning down to kiss him again. With his hands free, he wrapped them around her waist and he stood from the chair forcing her to lean her head back to keep their mouths together. Her tongue was soft and wet against his, and he eagerly went in for another taste.

As he deepened the kiss, soft pleasured whimpers escaped her lips that had him growing hard.

His hands slid over the delectable curve of her hip to reach into the slit on her skirt until he encountered...nothing.

Bare, silky skin unencumbered by cotton or lace.

He groaned with lust and reached around her back so that he could pull her against him, nudging her legs apart to fit between them.

She tore her mouth away from his with a gasp, tossing her head back.

"Yes! Robin, please," she moaned, "I need you-"

 **BUZZ!**

Robin jolted awake, greeted by the same grey concrete ceiling he'd woken up to for the last three years.

He rolled over with a groan, careful to avoid jostling the stitches on his side, or the part of his anatomy that was a lot more awake than he'd prefer.

When he'd managed to get things sufficiently under control he rolled off the bunk, feet landing on the floor with a hiss. He rubbed a hand across his face, and moved to the other side of the cell to slide on his shoes.

He turned away as his cellmate pulled himself up from the bottom bunk and shuffled over to use the toilet. He was very glad that the jumpsuits were loose fitting. It was never a good idea to flaunt a hard-on in prison, lest someone get the wrong idea...or was a little too interested.

Not that he had to worry about Will in either regard.

Will Scarlet was a petty thief in for a liquor store robbery. It was obvious, however, that he was a genuinely good guy who'd just made some bad choices. He and the younger man had instantly bonded over the massive coincidence of two Brits ending up in the same prison in a small county in Maine.

The cell door slid open and the two stepped out, following the crowd toward the mess hall for first meal.

"You're looking rough this morning," Will commented as they picked up their trays.

Robin grunted noncommittally.

"Alright, fine," he held up his hands defensively, stepping into the chow line.

With their filled trays they made their way over to an empty table and sat down.

"So what've you got going on today? That lawyer still coming?" Will asked.

"Yes, she's coming."

Will didn't comment further, but Robin knew his nervousness was obvious as he tapped a piece of overdone toast against the tray.

"No worries," he finally said, shoveling a spoon of eggs into his mouth, "I'm sure it'll be good news."

Robin scoffed, "You're taking the piss, but I appreciate the effort."

Will shrugged, "I do what I can, bruv."

He laughed mirthlessly, tossing aside the piece of toast.

"You gonna eat that?" the younger man asked picking it up and shoving the entire piece into his mouth without waiting for an answer, then washing it down with another spoonful of eggs and a swig of juice.

"What are you in such a rush for?" Robin asked.

Will wiped his mouth on his sleeve, "No reason. Just gotta get to work. Good behavior and all."

"So you're just eager to unpack gauze in the infirmary?"

"Got nothing else to do with my time."

"Right," he answered, "and if I stopped by would I find that Nurse French is working today?"

"How the hell should I know that?" Will asked in an entirely unconvincing tone of voice.

"Never gonna happen, mate," Robin said, though he was well aware of the massive hypocrisy in warning the younger man against entertaining his infatuation with the kindly nurse less than an hour after he himself was having sex dreams about the warden! Talk about the very definition of 'unobtainable'!

Shaking off the thought, he picked up his fork and forced himself to dig into his meal. He didn't need to be thinking about that sort of thing anyway. Yes, she was a beautiful woman and he'd been locked up for a long time, but he needed to focus on winning his appeal so he could get out of here. That was his priority. Always.

* 0 * 0 * 0 * 0 * 0 *

"Alright, Roland, say 'hi' to your daddy," John's voice echoed off screen. Roland looked up from his toys on the floor to wave at the camera.

"Hi daddy!" he flashed a dimpled grin.

"Do you want to show him your new toy?"

"I...I got this," Roland announced holding up a yellow dump truck.

"Yeah, did you get that for your birthday?" John asked.

"Yeah!" Roland declared, and began pushing the truck along the carpet making vrooming noises.

He was so big. No longer a baby.

Robin blinked rapidly, caressing the glass where John held up his digital camera to it as the video came to an end.

Setting the camera down, John adjusted the phone, "He's doing well. Trina takes him to playgroup three times a week. He's making a lot of friends there."

"I'm glad."

"We read him your letters all the time. He likes hearing them," John went on.

"Does…" he began, pausing to clear his throat against the lump in it, "Does he understand..."

He couldn't find the words to finish the question, but he didn't have to.

John shifted uncomfortably, "He asks where you are sometimes, but...he's only four, Rob."

Robin nodded.

From the second visitors' chair Mulan cleared her throat tactfully, "There's some things we need to discuss."

"Alright. I'll wait for you outside," John acceded, turning his attention back to the glass briefly, "And I'll send more pictures when I can."

"Thank you, John," Robin answered.

The other man nodded as he set the phone back into the cradle and stood from the table.

Once he was gone Mulan shifted, meeting his eyes through the glass, "You doing okay?"

"As well as can be expected," he sighed.

"Well your court date is in two weeks," she explained, "It won't be another trial. Not yet. All it will be is a judge hearing our motion to-"

"Mulan," he cut her off, "Answer me straight. What are my chances of getting out of here?"

The look on her face was answer enough.

She sighed lightly as she spoke, "Honestly, not exactly great. We don't have a lot of new evidence. Now, my investigator did find some that would suggest that the state's evidence, specifically your blood at the crime scene, was mishandled. However, it isn't enough to exonerate you. Our best shot is to ask for a new trial. We don't have enough to request the judge to overturn your conviction. At least a new trial will force the cops to take another look at the case."

"How long will that take?" he asked.

"If we're granted a new trial?" she speculated, "A year, maybe more."

He sighed heavily. A year. Another year away from his son. At least.

"Robin, I know this is hard," Mulan said, "I won't feed you bullshit promises that I'm going to get you out of here because I can't guarantee that, but I can guarantee that I will do absolutely all I can for you. I swear!"

He ran his hand over his head, "You're right. I know you will."

"So you're still in this?" she asked, "You want to fight?"

"I'll do whatever it takes to get back to my son," he declared.

* 0 * 0 * 0 * 0 * 0 *

Thoughts? Please let me know what you think, even if it's that this sucks!


	5. Chapter 4

**Sorry this chapter was so long coming. I hope to update again very soon.**

 *** 0 * 0 * 0 * 0 * 0 * 0 ***

"So are we making any progress on finding out the validity of these rumors about weapons?"

"No, Ma'am," CO Glass answered, "CO Humbert ordered inmate Heller monitored since he got out of solitary, but, so far, he's been behaving himself."

"What about inmate Gold? Regina asked.

"Gold?" Glass asked, "I haven't heard anything."

Regina sighed. Sidney Glass was a competent CO, and he'd been at the prison a long time, but he wasn't the sharpest tool in the shed.

"See if we can get any information from our confidential informants about what he's been up to," she instructed.

"Why?" Glass asked, "The CIs never know anything about Gold's dealings. He's too slick."

"Yes, well, try anyway!" she ordered.

The man nodded, "Yes, Warden Mills."

"Warden," a voice called from behind her.

She turned, "Yes, Kathryn?"

"There's a lawyer here. She's asking to see you," her assistant explained. Regina checked her watch. 5:45 PM already. She was going to be late.

"What about?" she asked.

"Access to her client, she says," Kathryn answered.

"What else?" Regina snarked, "Sidney, if you'll excuse me."

Glass nodded and made his way back down the corridor.

Regina followed Katherine to her office where they were met by a beautiful Asian woman.

"I'm Warden Mills," Regina introduced herself, "I was told you wanted to speak with me?"

"Mulan Fa," she shook her hand, "And, yes, I'd like to know why I'm being denied access to my client?"

"Who is your client?" Regina questioned.

"Robin Locksley."

"Locksley?" she asked, "It was my understanding that you were supposed to be in court with your client this morning?"

"We were and now he's been transported back. I was told the bus arrived at 1PM. It shouldn't take nearly 5 hours to reprocess a single inmate," Mulan complained.

"There are a lot of factors that can go into processing time, Ms. Fa," Regina answered, annoyed at her tone, "Infact, inmates are normally not allowed visitors on their first day."

"It isn't his first day!" the other woman insisted, "He's been here for three years. And denying him access to counsel is a violation of his constitutional rights!"

"You saw your client this morning! What is so important that it can't wait until tomorrow during visiting hours?"

She hesitated for a moment, so Regina simply stared at her expectantly.

"I simply want to verify his state of mind," she finally explained with a sigh.

"How do you mean? Are you saying your client is a suicide risk?"

"Not exactly," the lawyer protested, "but...our motion for a new trial was denied. I'm sure you can understand this news was very upsetting-"

"I'm sure it was, but you can offer your condolences tomorrow during visiting hours," Regina repeated.

"I'm simply concerned for my client," Mulan argued, "I know it may not be something you care about, but prisoner safety is part of duty of the department of corrections-"

"Ms. Fa, I take my responsibilities very seriously," Regina interrupted.

"I hope so," the other woman said, "Because if anything happens to my client I will be sure to name you in the civil suit I'll be filing."

Regina step toward to get into her face, "I don't appreciate threats, Ms. Fa. I think you should leave."

Mulan looked chided and even emotional, "Okay, I'm sorry just...please just think about what I said."

With that the lawyer left Regina's office, to be escorted out by CO.

"What on Earth was that all about?" Kathryn wondered aloud once she was out of an earshot.

"I have no idea," Regina shook her head, "I hate attorney drama."

"You think she was serious about Locksley being a suicide risk?" Kathryn asked, "Should we notify county that we need a psych consult?"

"At nearly 6 on a Friday night?" she pointed out, "No one would even be there to take the message until Monday."

"So do we need to put him on watch until then? Just to be safe?"

Regina sighed. Kathryn had a point. She was pretty sure that the woman's suggestion was just standard lawyer histrionics, but, after the stabbing, the same inmate committing suicide under her watch would look really bad.

"Let me speak to him. I'll see what I think."

* 0 * 0 * 0 * 0 * 0 * 0 *

It struck her that this was very familiar. Locksley being lead into her office, and shackled down for a talk.

She, again, nodded for the CO to give them some space.

"How are you, Locksley?" she asked.

He sighed heavily, "Warden, with all due respect, I'm sure you didn't bring me in here just to ask how I was."

She raised an eyebrow at him, "Actually I did."

He looked up to meet her eyes.

"Your lawyer informed me that your appeal was denied," she elaborated.

"It was," he deadpanned, trying way too hard to not show any emotion about it.

"She's concerned you'll do something foolish."

"Foolish?" he asked, looking up with another sigh, "In what way?"

"Are you thinking of doing something foolish in any way?" she challenged.

"If I say 'no' will that be enough to absolve you of any liability?"

"Locksley, I don't appreciate the attitude. I suggest you drop it before you really annoy me," Regina growled, before continuing on in a softer tone, "And, frankly, that answer makes me think Ms. Fa might have been onto something."

He didn't answer.

"Is this about your son?" she asked.

He looked up in surprise, "How did you-"

"It's in your file," she explained, "You had an 18 month old son at the time of your wife's death and your arrest."

"He's four now," Locksley said, staring at the floor.

She flipped through his file, "It says here you still have visitation rights, but I don't see any records of him coming here. Is he being cared for by relatives?"

"Family friend," he answered.

"And they won't bring him here?" she guessed.

"I asked them not to."

"Well you might want to re-think that," she sighed, "You're in here because of the choices you made, but you still have choices and your son knowing you is one of them. Maybe not the way you'd like, but-"

"If you were in my position would you want your child knowing you this way?" he cut her off.

"I'd want to know my son anyway I could," she answered instinctively, grumbling inwardly that she'd revealed something personal about herself. Although, it wasn't too bad. Anyone, including inmates, could find out she had a son just from a quick Google search.

She cleared her throat to regain her bearings, "I'll give you some free advice, Locksley. I've seen a lot of prisoners during my career, and a life sentence is a long time-"

"That it is."

She ignored the interruption, "Those who do best with it tend to be those who accept it, and, more importantly, take responsibility for what got them there."

"That's difficult when I didn't do anything," Locksley answered.

Regina couldn't resist the urge to roll her eyes.

"I know you don't believe me, but I didn't kill my wife," he insisted, "I loved her."

She tapped her pen against her desk. She didn't know why she continued to go on with this speech. In all likelihood, she was just wasting her time.

However, she found herself speaking again, "I'm sure you did, but sometimes love can make us do things we never thought ourselves capable of."

"Is that what happened to you?" Locksley asked.

Shocked, Regina met his eyes, "Excuse me?"

"The scar on your lip."

Her fingers flew to her mouth before she could stop them.

"You're out of line, Locksley," She warned, dropping her hands back to her sides.

"I was just curious," he answered.

"Well don't be!" she snapped, storming over to the door. Once there she ordered the CO to take Locksley to isolation with monitoring until psych could be called on Monday.

As he was lead out the door, Regina slammed it closed and sunk down into her chair.

She was angry...and mortified...and she didn't even know why. She'd overreacted. She knew that. Working in corrections required a thick skin. It was something she'd perfected long ago. So why had the fact that he'd noticed a scar rattled her so?

 **TBC...**


	6. Chapter 5

**Thanks to pt159 who helped me break through writer's block in this chapter!**

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Regina took a breath of beer and grease scented air as she stepped into the restaurant. After getting out of work, she'd dropped Henry off at the movies with friends before heading over to the new gastropub in Misthaven.

"Regina!" Mary-Margaret called over to her.

David Nolan was a good friend of Daniel's when they were younger, and his wife, although she was sometimes overwhelmingly optimistic, had always been nice to Regina. Most importantly, though, they had both been there for her when Daniel died.

Plastering a brave smile on, Regina made her way through the tables over to them.

"Oh, it's so good to see you!" Mary-Margaret said, standing to embrace her tightly.

"Good to see you too," she breathed, trying to nudge the other woman into noticing that she was squeezing her so hard she was having trouble breathing.

Oblivious, however, Mary-Margaret simply pushed her down into a chair, "It has been too long since we've gotten together!"

"Yeah, well things have been busy with work lately."

"Right, David makes that excuse too," she said nudging her husband, "But I'm still waiting for the day either of you get home at 9PM and still have three hundred papers to grade!"

David wisely chose not to comment, while Regina simply rolled her eyes.

"So what's so special about this place anyway?" she asked, picking up a menu, "It looks like it's mostly just overpriced hamburgers."

"The idea is to try new things, Regina," Mary-Margaret scolded, "Something you might do a little more often!"

She resisted the urge to scoff at that criticism. David and Mary-Margaret were a couple who considered Scrabble night an exciting evening.

"We ordered a pitcher of Margaritas," David changed the subject, "Your favorite."

A harsh laugh fell from her lips before she could stop it, "Good, I'll need it!"

"Rough day?" he laughed.

"You have no idea."

"Everything alright?" Mary-Margaret asked, concern obvious in her voice.

"Nothing worth mentioning," she shook her head.

She could tell the short-haired woman wanted to grill her further, but, before she got the chance, a voice interrupted.

"Well, well fancy seeing you here."

Looking up from the menu, Regina saw David and Mary-Margaret looking at someone over her shoulder. She also recognized the voice. It caused her back to stiffen, and her eyes to slide closed in frustration.

Steeling herself, she turned around in her chair to face Keith Nottingham.

"Keith," she said stiffly.

"Regina," he grinned, tapping his fingers against the pint of beer in his hand, "What are you doing in my neck of the woods?"

"Just having dinner with friends."

"Well aren't you going to introduce me?" he asked.

She certainly had not planned on it, but, in looking at David and Mary-Margaret's expectant faces, she knew there would be no avoiding it now.

"This is David and Mary-Margaret Nolan," she said politely, "Keith Nottingham."

"Hello," Mary-Margaret said, "How do you two know each other?"

"We work together," was her only answer.

"You're the sheriff of Misthaven, right?" David asked.

"That I am," he said pridefully.

"Yeah I think I've seen you around," he went on, "I work for the Storybrooke PD."

"Ah," Keith nodded, "Good department."

"Well you should join us then," Mary-Margaret said.

Regina's head snapped to her, but before she could protest, even with a pointed glare, Keith slid into the chair next to her and scooted over uncomfortably close.

"Thanks," he said, "I wouldn't pass up the opportunity to get to know Regina better."

With that he slid his hand around the back of her chair with a smarmy grin.

Both the Nolan's wore identical sly gazes at catching sight of it, leaving Regina nothing to do but grit her teeth and wonder when those Margaritas they mentioned were coming.

* 0 * 0 * 0 * 0 * 0 * 0 *

Two hours later she was watching David and Mary-Margaret "making new friends" at the bar while she downed the last of her second Margarita, and Keith finished the twenty minute story he'd been telling about his new waverunner.

"I plan on taking it down to the coast as soon as I get the chance," he commented, "Spend the weekend relaxing, you know?"

It was transparent attempt to segway into an invitation.

Honestly, by this point she was torn between irritation that he apparently thought she'd be so impressed by the fact that he owned a jet ski, and being grudgingly impressed by his determination.

She'd purposefully ordered raw onions and jalapeños on her burger, but he didn't seem at all deterred.

"Sounds nice getting to have a weekend off," she commented offhandedly, "I won't be getting one of those any time soon with all the craziness that's going on in my prison."

He actually straightened up at that, all flirtatiousness gone from his manner and asked, "Locksley causing trouble again?"

That was a loaded question as Regina remembered Locksley's piercing stare earlier as he asked about her scar.

"No," she shook her head, "At least not that I know of."

He frowned at that answer, "What do you mean?"

Realizing she might have said more than she intended, Regina shook herself, "Nothing. I shouldn't be talking about this."

"Oh come on," he urged, the 'charming' tone back in his voice, "We're all law enforcement, right? We're on the same side."

Technically that was true, but it didn't mean she trusted Keith to confide in him about the rumors of weapons floating around the prison.

"I just don't like violence happening under my watch," was all she said.

"Yeah well, what else can you expect with men like Locksley?" he shrugged, taking a gulp of his beer, "Animals. That's what they are."

Glancing over at him, she commented, "You say that like you know him well. He lived here in Misthaven before his wife's murder, right?"

Setting down his beer, Keith nodded, "Yeah. Troublemaking asshole!"

"Really?" Regina questioned, "I thought he had no prior criminal record?"

He turned to stare at her, so she clarified, "At least that's what our files say."

"Maybe nothing official," Keith grumbled.

Letting her interest show, she looked at him expectantly, and he took the bait, "We had run-ins with him a lot, but could never make anything stick."

"What was he into?" she asked.

"Slapping around his wife," Keith answered.

Her lips dropped open. She wasn't sure why hearing that was so surprising. It would have made perfect sense considering the man was in prison for his wife's rape and murder, but, before she even realized it, she found herself asking, "Are you certain?"

"Like I said, I could never make it stick."

"Did she make a complaint?" Regina asked.

"Nah," he shook his head, "But they never do. You know how it is. Women always end up picking the jerks!"

"Hm," she hummed noncommittally.

"Anyway," he shrugged, "He got what he deserved in the end."

Regina glanced at him, thinking that was a rather callous assessment of a situation that ended in woman's murder.

Clearing her throat, she stood from the table, "Well it was good speaking with you, Keith, but I need to be going."

"So soon?" he asked, "The night's still young."

"No," she shook her head, swinging her coat over her shoulders, "I need to pick up my son."

"Well maybe some night you can get a babysitter and we can…talk some more?" he suggested, giving her a leering look up and down.

Suppressing her disgust, she bit out, "We'll see."

Before he had the chance to say anything else, she grabbed up her purse. Looking over at the bar she considered that she should go say goodnight to David and Mary-Margaret, but, in truth, she was rather annoyed at them for their transparent attempts to leave her alone with Keith.

"Screw it," she grumbled to herself, and made a beeline for the door.

* 0 * 0 * 0 * 0 * 0 * 0 *

Callum Gold stood next to his cell under Graham's watchful eye as COs Mendell and Rice searched through his mattress and possessions.

"Am I allowed to ask what it is you think I've done, Warden?" he asked in a feigned respectful tone.

"Random cell inspection, Gold," Regina answered.

"Hm," he responded, drawing his lips back into a grimacing smile.

He obviously didn't believe her, but Regina was not concerned about what Gold thought of her.

"Anything?"

"No, Ma'am," CO Rice responded, shaking her head.

She worked the inside of her cheek, making sure not to let her frustration show on her face.

"Sorry to disappoint," Gold purred beside her.

Graham nudged Gold, "How about you keep your mouth shut?"

"Alright, just make sure you look under everything including the bed," Regina instructed.

They were still no closer to finding out how weapons were getting into the prison. Unfortunately, however, there was more and more evidence emerging that they were. This morning an inmate had been caught with knife. Not even a homemade shiv this time, but a switchblade. Something that had clearly been smuggled in. The inmate, Smee was his name, had been completely tight lipped about where he got it, though.

After sending Smee to solitary, Regina had ordered Gold's cell searched. She was certain he had something to do with this. He was the resident contraband dealer in this prison. She knew it, she'd just never been able to catch him.

"Warden Mills?" Kathryn's voice interrupted her musings.

"Yes, Kathryn?" she turned as the blond woman walked down the cellblock.

"The psychiatrist just signed off on Locksley's evaluation. They ruled him 'no suicide risk'," she reported, "So Nurse French needs your signature on the forms to have him sent back to gen. pop."

"Okay," Regina sighed, taking the pen Kathryn held out and signing the forms.

When she turned back, Gold was looking at her with interest, "Robin Locksley threatened suicide? That's interesting."

"Excuse me, Gold?" she asked.

He shrugged, "I simply hadn't heard."

"You know Locksley?" she asked, "How?"

"Not at all," Gold answered easily, "Just what I saw on the news. This is a pretty sleepy area after all, and it was such a shocking case."

She looked at him questioningly.

"A strange one at that," he mused, almost to himself, "An upstanding citizen and business owner who has lots of friends, and a beautiful young family rapes and murders his wife, seemingly out of the blue, leaving mountains of evidence for the police to find..."

Regina narrowed her eyes at him.

"...I guess you never really know your neighbors, do you?"

Glancing at Regina, Graham turned back to Gold, "Hey! What did I just say?"

"It's alright," Regina said, "I think we're done here."

Shoving Gold back into his cell, Humbert, Rice, and Mendell followed her down the cellblock.

"Mendell, will you go get Locksley from the infirmary?" Graham said.

"Yes Sir," Mendell nodded, turning down the stairs to do as ordered.

Walking along Regina thought over this morning's incident in her mind.

"Do we need to search any of the other inmates' cells, Warden?" Rice asked as they walked along.

She was prepared to say 'no', but rethought it at the last second. What was Gold's deal bringing up Locksley? He'd said they didn't know each other, but who's to say he was at all trustworthy?

"Yes," she nodded, picking up her pace, "Come with me."

Locksley and Scarlett's cell was on the other side of the block. When they arrived Scarlett was lounging on the bottom bunk reading a magazine.

When he caught sight of them he set it aside and stood up.

"Scarlett, you've been chosen for random cell inspection," she informed him, motioning to Tamara and Graham.

"Inmate, step outside the cell," Graham ordered.

With a slightly rueful expression, Scarlett did as he was told.

"Stand right here until we've completed our inspection," he said firmly, taking his place next to Scarlett while Rice began searching through the cell.

"Can I ask why?" the young man questioned.

Regina glanced over at him for a second, but simply responded, "Because I said so."

He wisely chose not to comment. As Tamara finished rifling through the books that were lined up on the shelf in the cell, the clink of shackles coming closer to the cell drew Regina's attention.

"What's going on?" Locksley asked as Mendell lead him over to the cell.

"Random cell inspection," she repeated.

"Right here!" Mendell pulled him over to stand next to Scarlett, "Don't move until I say so!"

"Any particular reason?" he asked.

"Everyone's just full of questions today!" Regina observed irritably, "In case you've forgotten, this is a prison. My prison. All inmates are subject to random inspection for security purposes."

As she finished her rant her phone chimed in her pocket. With a sigh, she transferred the papers in her arms to one hip and reached into her trousers to fish it out. Just as it cleared her waistband, however, it slid from her fingers and clattered to the floor.

Swearing internally, she moved to pick it up.

Graham beat her to it, though, quickly stooping to grab if off the concrete and pass it to her.

When he did so she was even more irritated to find 'Keith Nottingham' flashing across the screen. Did the man never give up?

She was just about to move her thumb to hit 'ignore' when Locksley's hand shot out and grabbed hers.

Surprised, she snapped her gaze up to his with wide eyes.

"How do you know Keith Nottingham?" he demanded.

Before she could respond, or he could get any more words out, Graham snapped his nightstick off his belt, swung it around Locksley's chest, and used it to pull him away from Regina and shove him face first into the cell door.

He groaned at the impact, as Regina took a deep breath. Beside them Will Scarlett shuffled uncomfortably.

"Hey!" Regina snapped, regaining her wits, "Don't move, Scarlett! Not an inch."

"Okay," he nodded, putting his hands up in a conciliatory gesture.

"Ma'am are you alright?" CO Rice asked, rushing out of the cell with her hand resting on her weapon.

"Fine," she grumbled, stepping over so that she could look Locksley in the eye, "Do you just like solitary that much?"

He sighed, "Look, I'm sorry, alright? But if the Keith Nottingham calling you is the sheriff of Misthaven, you can't trust him!"

"And I should take your word for it?"

Gritting his jaw, he turned his head upward against the bars.

"Ma'am?" Graham questioned as he held onto him.

"Finish the cell inspection," she ordered, "Make sure you don't miss anything."

With that she stormed away, not stopping until she reached her office. Settling down into the chair, she placed her hands on her lap, displeased to find they were shaking slightly.

She still had her phone clutched in one. Keith had given up calling, and it now read '1 missed call.'

Setting it aside, she took a few breaths to calm herself down and think rationally. This was making no sense, and she did not like it.

Pursing her lips, she recalled both Gold's comment about never being able to know one's neighbors and the alarmed look on Locksley's face when he asked her about Keith.

Picking up her desk phone, she pressed the button for an outside line and dialed the number.

"Storybrooke PD," David answered on the second ring.

"David," she greeted, "It's Regina. I need you to look into something for me."

 **TBC...**


	7. Chapter 6

**I just wanted to let everyone know how much I appreciate your feedback. It really means so much to me!  
**

 **Also, this story has been a bit slow so far but should really pick up with this chapter.**

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Robin banged his tray against the trashcan, and stacked it in the pile. Third meal was just winding down, and everyone was slowly making their way out of the cafeteria. Outside rain pelted the prison roof, making everything seem darker than usual for this time of the day. Evening lockdown was not for a couple more hours, however, so a few inmates stopped along the way to chat, or turned toward the common area.

The TVs in the common area were playing a football game, which is why he sighed when Will followed him up the steps to their cell rather than staying downstairs. Will liked American football, but had been hovering over him like a mother hen since his latest return from isolation.

"What are you doing, mate?" he asked, turning as the two entered their cell.

"Turning in," he answered innocently.

"At 8:30?"

The younger man shrugged, and flopped down on his bunk.

With another sigh Robin braced his hand on the top bunk, and leaned over, "Look, I can tell what you're trying to do, and I'd rather you stop, okay? You're not my mum."

Will sat up, "Well if my mum were here she'd tell you to get your head out of your arse!"

"Your mum sounds like an interesting woman."

"I'm serious, bruv," he answered, "I didn't believe them when the COs said you were on suicide watch, but then you assault the warden only ten minutes out? Makes me think you do have a death wish. What the hell were you thinking?"

Robin ran a hand over his face tiredly, "Just leave it, Will."

"Alright, what about your kid? You thought about him?"

"I think about Roland everyday."

"You want him to grow up without a father?"

"I may not have much choice in the matter," he said ruefully.

"Look, mate," Will stood, "My dad was always in and out of jail all my life. Right useless bastard he was, but it was so much worse when he died. Especially for my sister. She was only thirteen. Trust me, you being around matters even if you are in here."

Will was right and he knew it.

"You're right," Robin acknowledged, "You're right."

Nodding, Will clapped his shoulder encouragingly.

Robin quirked a smile and said, "Oh, and for the record, I wasn't planning to kill myself! The warden just got that idea in her head because of...something I said."

"Yeah, about that," the younger man crossed his arm, "What was that the other day during cell inspection?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean you flipping out over whoever the heck Ken, or whatever his name was," Will answered, "I'd be really curious to know who this guy is, and, for that matter, why you care who's phoning the warden?"

"It's nothing."

"Nothing, eh?"

"Nothing I can do anything about in here," he clarified shaking his head, "Forget it, I'm just not making very good decisions these days."

"Well no argument there," Will snarked, "Cut that out will ya? You're making my life anxious!"

Robin laughed at the ridiculousness of the statement, but nodded his head in agreement, "Right, sorry."

Grinning Will stepped over, and the two hugged it out for a moment.

Before they even had the chance to step apart, though, a mechanical groan echoed through the walls, followed by a bang as the lights faded out drenching the prison in darkness.

Robin pulled away, looking around in the dark, "What the hell was that?"

"Power cut?" Will guessed, "From the rain?"

"A place like this would have backup power on a generator," Robin shook his head. As their eyes slowly adjusted to the darkness, they slowly stepped toward the, still open, cell doors. Around them other prisoners were letting out similar dismayed shouts and exclamations.

The two men reached the walkway way railing just as a series of unintelligible shouts, followed by a gunshot echoed through the darkness.

Robin and Will instinctively ducked to the floor the moment the shot rang.

"Shite!" Robin exclaimed. In the darkness he heard several other inmates expressing similar sentiments.

"Bloody hell," Will muttered next to him, "What going on?"

"I don't know," Robin answered, cautiously pushing himself up to try to see something through the darkness.

Suddenly the emergency lighting flashed on, the cell doors simultaneously began sliding closed, and a siren started going off.

Between the wailing of the siren and the shouts from inmates who had just gotten locked in their cells, the noise was deafening.

As quickly as they came on the emergency lights shut back off, and the cell doors opened back up. The siren continued to blare for a few minutes before also shutting off.

It was replaced, however, by sound of shouts echoing down the corridor, footsteps of every inmate moving around frantically, more gunshots.

Swearing Robin pushed himself up from the ground, dragging Will with him.

"Come on, we have to go!" he instructed, shoving Will toward the steps down to the common area. He stopped, however, when through the darkness he heard the sounds of a commotion and caught the outline of what looked like two or three inmates piling on someone. He couldn't tell if the person they were beating up was another inmate...or someone else.

Grabbing the back of Will's jumpsuit, he pulled him back in the opposite direction. Both shoved their way through the other inmates whom they bumped into in the darkness.

When they finally got to the end of the block, they ducked into the side corridor and leaned against the wall to take a moment to breathe.

"Is this a riot?" Will asked between breaths.

"I think so," Robin nodded.

Will swore under his breath and asked, "What do we do?"

"I have no idea."

In the darkness a pained scream echoed off the concrete walls. As they glanced back into the block a light from a gun flashed for long enough to catch the barest glimpse of a CO in uniform, but it was quickly followed by several gunshots from the opposite direction. A few seconds of eerie silence fell, before being filled again by triumphant shouts, terrified exclamations, and the sounds of fights breaking out.

"How is this happening?" the younger man asked, "Where are the bloody COs?"

Shaking his head, Robin nudged him, "Come on, we should keep moving."

They jogged down the corridor cautiously in the darkness, and upon rounding a corner nearly plowed into a corrections officer in full riot gear.

With surprised exclamations, they shielded their eyes from the glare from his headlamp.

"Stop!" he ordered, "Don't come any closer!"

Blinking, Robin could see that he had a gun trained on them, but his eyes were wide with fear and uncertainty.

"Alright," he put his hand up reassuringly, "It's alright. We don't want any trouble we just want to know what's going on? Where are the COs? There's a riot down there."

"I know that!"

"Well where is everyone?" Will asked.

"I don't know!" he yelled, "I can't get anyone on the radio. I don't know how this is happening. How they managed to turn off our sirens and interfere with our communications, but I can't get ahold of anyone!"

"So what do we do?"

He sighed in exasperation, "Just go back to your cells and stay there until the situation is under control!"

With that he shoved past them, apparently having decided that they weren't a threat.

"Stay in our cell?" Will repeated incredulously.

"Yeah, I don't think so," Robin agreed, "We need to try to get to the main office. See if the COs have actually got this under control, but if they don't where can we go that's safe?"

"Ahh…" Will thought it over, "The infirmary maybe? Nurse French has her own set of keys. She can lock it from the inside."

"Right," he nodded, "You should go ahead and get over there."

"I'm not leaving you!" Will protested.

"I'm just going up that way to the main office. It isn't far. There's no sense in both of us risking getting shot if the COs see us and think we're the ones doing the rioting!"

"Well then it should be me that goes. We just talked about this."

"Will, Nurse French knows you so you can get her to unlock the door, and, frankly, I've been to the main office a lot more than you," Robin reminded him, "I'll be right behind you."

Will clearly was not happy with the idea, but nodded in agreement, "Alright, take care of yourself."

"You too," he called after his friend before the two parted ways.

The corridors were still pitch dark, and, in this part of the prison, mostly silent except for the occasional yell echoing from the distance.

Robin made his way down them quietly, careful to make sure his shoes didn't squeak, and to look out for anyone else.

As he reached the last intersection to turn toward the main office, the light from a headlamp filled the perpendicular hallway.

The CO, whose voice Robin didn't recognize, suddenly yelled for someone to stop where they were, only to be answered by a barrage of gunshots.

Robin heard a sickening thunk as his body hit the ground. Some distance down the hallway a chorus of whoops and laughter sounded.

He plastered himself to the wall, hoping that whatever inmates had just shot the CO would not see him in the darkness. Their footsteps and hollers slowly echoed into the distance, though as if they were walking away.

Robin was about breathing again when, faintly, heard another set of footsteps approaching from the direction the CO had come. They were light and faint as if the person were trying to be quiet, but also had a click to them that was different the sound of the guard's boots or the prison issued tennis shoes inmates received.

That sound had to mean heeled shoes, and that narrowed it down to only a handful of people that could be coming his way.

He knew for certain, however, when he heard her voice whisper the guard's name.

Robin squeezed his eyes shut as she swore under her breath. If she was out here alone that was answer enough as to how much COs didn't have a damned thing under control!

The faint glow of the COs headlamp moved along the ground. She was trying to pick it up.

He knew that this was his chance, and he had to make a now or never push.

Tossing himself around the corner, he lunged forward and caught Warden Mills as she was standing from a crouched position.

The headlamp fell from her hand, clattering to the ground and making far too much noise for his liking, as he clamped one hand around her middle and the other mouth.

Almost immediately tried to spin out of his grasp, and swing her arm around. Through the darkness he could see the outline of a gun in her hand.

Acting on pure instinct, he pushed them both into the wall, grabbing onto the hand holding the gun so that she couldn't shot him, and pushing it against the wall until her grip loosened and it fell to the floor as well.

As soon as he felt her let go of the gun, Robin pulled her away from the wall and rushed them the few paces through the doors to the main office.

To his disappointment, the door was unlocked and the offices were almost completely dark. There also didn't seem to be anyone around.

With a grumble, he turned them toward the warden's office and shoved her inside. He slammed the door closed, and was reaching for the blinds when he caught sight of her rummaging for something in her desk.

"Hey!" he exclaimed, catching her arm before she could hit him with whatever was in her hand. The struggled for a moment, fighting over the object. Banging into her desk, Robin managed to just barely pry it from her hand.

Gasping for breath he looked down at what he'd wrestled away from her. It had the shape of a handgun, but was lighter and had an odd rectangular shape at the end. A taser.

Warden Mills, who had been quiet as he inspected what he'd taken from her, stood in front of him, fuming breaths escaping her.

"What are you going to do now?" she asked, the anger in her voice reverberating through the darkness.

 **TBC...**


	8. Chapter 7

**Author's Note: This chapter will finally feature some more OutlawQueen. It may not be much, but, given the circumstances, it has to be a bit different. Please let me know what you think!**

 *** 0 * 0 * 0 * 0 * 0 * 0 ***

"Well?" Regina repeated.

Before he could answer, though, the sound of a door crashing open echoed outside of her office.

Quickly, he snapped the blinds closed and ducked down to the floor. Listening carefully, Robin could hear some muffled conversation, and footsteps that seemed to be moving away from them, he couldn't be certain.

Glancing over his shoulder, he whispered to Regina, "Where's your gun?"

She glared at him "It's outside where you made me drop it!"

Robin swore internally as he remembered that.

"Well do you know who's out there?" he asked quietly, "Is it the COs?"

"How could I possibly know that from in here? Magic?" she demanded in an angry hiss, "Get out of the way and I'll find out!"

He looked at her incredulously, "And if it's inmates?"

"I'll be no worse off than in here?" she replied sarcastically.

Sighing heavily, Robin turned back to the window trying to see if he could spot anything through the small gaps in the blinds without drawing any attention to the office.

"I think they're heading away," he said softly.

"Good, then let me out of here so I can go get my gun!" Regina said.

"They might have picked it up."

"Well, I won't know without looking!" she shot back, voice raising slightly. He shushed her with a glare.

She glared right back, taking a breath before saying evenly, "Locksley, you need to listen to me now. Whatever you're planning you should re-think it."

Robin turned back to her again, "You think I planned this?"

She didn't answer that, continuing on, "You have to know there is only one way this will end. It's only a matter of time, and you haven't done anything yet-"

"Yet?" he questioned.

"If you keep it that way it will be so much better for you."

Rolling his eyes, Robin tucked the taser into the pocket of his jumpsuit and stood from where he was crouched on the floor. He stalked toward her, demanding, "Look, what is going on here-"

After only a couple steps, though, Regina stepped backward. The wall behind her prevented her from going any further. He stopped. Even through the darkness he could see the expression on her face was defiant, but also nervous.

Going no further than the front of her desk, he asked evenly, "How is this happening? Where are the COs?"

"I don't know," she answered angrily, "We should have backup power. We should be able to communicate. We should be able to get an outside phone line to call for help. This should not be happening!"

"Alright," he shifted uncomfortably, "How long will it take for help to come? The police or something?"

"With the phones down?" she shot back, "I have no way of knowing!"

"But surely it won't be long? They had to have called from the guard towers?"

"I don't know!" she hissed in his face, "Communications are down! I have no information about what is happening! That is why you need to move out of the way, and let me go find out."

"Wait," he stepped to the side, blocking her potential way to the door, "If you have no communications you shouldn't go out there! You don't know what you're walking into. From what I saw it was complete chaos! There are inmates who are armed. I saw them."

"That is why I need to get out there," she moved to storm past him.

"What are you going to do?" he stepped into her way again, "Singled handedly stop however many armed inmates?"

She glared at him.

Shifting, he asked, "How long will it realistically be until help arrives?"

She let out a huff, "Assuming someone managed to call for backup? An hour...maybe two or more because of the storm."

"Right," he nodded, "So we should stay here."

"Stay here?" she repeated, "And do what exactly?"

"Well I would suggest locking the door and being as quiet as possible!" he said in exasperation.

Regina locked her jaw and ordered, "You need to get out of my way, Locksley. This is my job-"

"Are you willing to die for it?" he shot back. Glancing at her desk, he lifted up a framed picture of her with a teenage boy, "Is this your son?"

"Put that down!" she growled.

Holding in a sigh, he set the picture frame back on the desk, "Look, your priority is to get home to him."

Even in the darkness he could tell that if looks could kill he'd be dead on the spot.

"Excuse me?" she asked darkly, storming directly up to him, "You do not tell me what my priority is, and you do not tell me how to parent my son!"

"Take if from someone who is never going to go home to his!" Robin's temper snapped, "Your priority **is** getting out of this alive. Your job...it doesn't matter right now because there's nothing you can do out there right now other than get hurt!"

She was silent for a moment before asking, "So just stay here? You're saying your plan is to just sit here until backup arrives? Even though that means you'll go back in your cell?"

"You said yourself there's only one way this ends," he sighed, moving past her to sit back against the wall.

Regina stood still for a moment before shifting on her feet, "And you're going to hold onto my taser I suppose?"

He looked up at her through the dark, "Don't worry...only until you have me back in shackles."

She huffed in disgust, which made him feel slightly proud of himself. Saying nothing, however, she simply stepped over the window to peer out through the edge.

* 0 * 0 * 0 * 0 * 0 * 0 *

They spent the next few hours in silence with Robin sitting back against the wall, and the warden pacing back and forth in front of her desk.

Robin sighed as she made another pass around the desk, struggling to keep quiet and not break the relative peace they'd achieved.

Finally, however, he couldn't take it anymore.

Letting out a frustrated breath he said, "Will you please stop? You look like you're trying to wear a hole in the floor!"

His words succeeded in making her stop, but instead she turned to him angrily.

"Shut up, Locksley!" she ordered, "You're still a prisoner here!"

"Right," he sighed, "I'm just saying incase inmates come by it might be better to be behind the desk here...make them a little less likely to see us?"

"You're suggesting I hide behind a desk in case of armed, rioting inmates?" she asked skeptically.

"You have a better plan?"

She huffed and went back to pacing. Robin slammed his head back against the wall, closing his eyes.

"It's been over two hours," he pointed out, "Do you have any idea what could be delaying the police arriving?"

"I don't know," she answered irritably, "I said it would probably be an hour or two if anyone managed to call out and inform the state police what's going on here! You were the one who convinced me to sit around waiting rather than trying to actually do something about it!"

"You haven't been doing much sitting," he pointed out snarkily.

"Locksley, I am warning you-"

"Alright!" he put his hands up defensively, "I understand you can't do anything. I'm sorry."

Regina sighed, looking toward the window, "As I said, the storm may be slowing things down. Plus, our communications are out. Probably best to just relax and not worry about how long it's been until we actually know something."

Robin smirked, "Yes, that does sound like a good idea."

Regina caught the sarcasm in his voice, and glared at him for it. She did, however, stop pacing and leaned against her desk.

Tapping his hand against his knee, he asked, "How old is your son?"

Her head snapped to him, "None of your damned business!"

He sighed, "I'm just trying to make conversation. Ease the tension a little?"

"Well, as you pointed out, there's the possibility armed inmates might come back around here, so maybe it's best to remain quiet? Don't you think?"

"Fine."

* 0 * 0 * 0 * 0 * 0 * 0 *

Regina yawned from where she was still leaning up against her desk. Robin felt himself wanting to as well.

"What time is it?" he asked quietly.

She let out an annoyed sigh, but checked her watch and answered, "12:45."

It had been over 4 hours. She braced herself for more questions and complaining from Locksley about that fact, but he simply nodded and leaned back against the wall, letting his eyes slide closed.

Regina shifted uncomfortably. She'd known that she'd be working late tonight, and had arranged for a neighbor to look in on Henry at dinner-time. No doubt he'd have realized that she didn't mean to be this late, though.

Henry would be worried about her. She couldn't stand the thought that her son would be stressed out and worrying because of her.

She swallowed hard.

This entire situation was out of control. Somehow, her prison had devolved into a riot, and she hadn't been able to do a thing to stop it. Instead she was stuck in here at the advice of an inmate!

She glanced over at Locksley. His eyes were still closed, but she couldn't tell if he was actually asleep or just dozing.

Working her lower lip with her teeth, Regina pushed herself up from her desk, and quietly crept over beside him.

She lowered herself to the floor, eyes going to his right pocket where she'd seen him put the taser earlier.

If he really were asleep...no! It was too risky. No way she'd be able to get the taser out his pocket without him waking up.

With a sigh of defeat, Regina hung her head and let herself lean back against the wall.

There was nothing she could do.

* 0 * 0 * 0 * 0 * 0 * 0 *

Robin jolted awake when he felt something hit his shoulder. As consciousness rushed back to him, he realized that what hit him was actually Warden Mills.

Apparently she actually had sat down next to him behind the desk, but he didn't know when.

He tensed, expecting having fallen over to have woken her up.

To his surprise, though, she did not. She remained slumped against his shoulder, and started snoring softly.

He pursed his lips together against the urge to laugh. He never dreamed this would be happening...well that wasn't true. He had dreamed it more than he'd like to admit, and this moment was unlikely to improve things. Not when he was so close to her that every breath he took was surrounded in her scent...sweet, clean, feminine.

He let out a slow sigh. It had been so long since he'd experienced that he'd almost forgotten what it felt like.

There was also a level of guilt behind the thought at knowing exactly how long it had been since he'd been this close to a woman.

Since Marian.

Since before his wife and the mother of his child was murdered.

He wasn't really certain when the beguiling warden had started invading his dreams, but he'd definitely felt plenty of guilt about it since then.

He wasn't even sure why he felt so drawn to her. In all likelihood it was just because he'd spent almost four years locked up and surrounded by men, most of which were criminals and scumbags. It was only natural he'd be drawn to a gorgeous woman like a light in the darkness.

He probably wasn't the only man in this prison who dreamed about her. In fact, he knew he wasn't. There were plenty of times he'd overheard inmates talking about her in less than savory ways. He blocked out most of those conversations, though, because he didn't like hearing them.

Robin sighed. Yes, it had to be just because he was locked up...at least, he hoped it was.

His thoughts stopped as she shifted against his shoulder and let out a high-pitched sigh. His gaze fell to her, watching her lips falling open. Even in the dark they looked so soft and full.

He let himself wonder for a second what would happen if he kissed her. If he just leaned down a little…

What would happen, even on the non-existent chance she'd kiss back rather than punching him, was that it would be completely wrong because she was asleep...not aware of her surroundings.

The world might already think he was that sort of monster, but wasn't about to actually become it now!

Slowly and carefully, Robin slid his arm around her back so that he could shift her over so that she was leaning against the wall rather than him.

He managed to shift her weight without waking her, and, letting out a breath of relief, he moved over to the side of the desk a safe distance from her.

 **TBC...**


	9. Chapter 8

A crash of thunder startled Regina awake, falling to the floor while half her face scraped against the wall.

She caught herself with her hands against the cheap carpet, blinking into the darkness as her eyes cleared.

When finally realized where she was, she glanced around and found that Locksley was sitting a few feet from her against her desk.

He was looking over at her, obviously having seen her very undignified actions a moment ago.

She felt her cheeks heating, but he said nothing, simply glancing toward her office door.

Licking her lips, she slid her watch face up and pressed the light. 4:00AM.

With an irritated sigh, she pulled her phone out of her pocket and checked the display. It showed two bars...that was a change from earlier when there had been none, and, alarmingly, even an attempt to dial 911 did not go through.

Quickly dialing the emergency number, Regina pressed the phone against her ear. The operator answered after two rings, and asked what her emergency was.

"Yes, this Regina Mills. I'm the warden of Coastal Correctional Facility. I need to be connected with the state police right away about a riot at my facility," she instructed.

"Yes Ma'am, I'll connect you right away."

She thanked the operator and waited on a hold for a few moments until someone who identified themselves as Maine State Police answered the phone.

"This is Warden Mills of Maine Coastal Correctional Facility," she repeated, "A riot began at my facility nearly 12 hours ago. All power, land line phones, and short range communications are down. I have no communication with my correctional officers. Security state of the facility is unknown. Up until recently even cellular service was down."

"Ah...please hold for a moment," the officer on the other end instructed, and put her on hold without waiting for an answer.

Regina sighed irritably. As she glanced up she noticed Locksley watching her with interest, but she ignored him for the moment.

"Hello?" a new voice came on the line, "Am I speaking with Warden Mills?"

"Yes, you are," she answered, "Who am I speaking with?"

"This is Lieutenant Lot with the Maine State Police SWAT Team," he answered.

Breathing a sigh of relief, Regina began quickly filling him in on the situation. He listened quietly to her quick update before answering, "Yes, Ma'am. Thank you for the information. Are you in a safe location at the moment?"

Glancing over at Locksley, she answered quietly, "For now, yes...I'm in my office."

"Very good," Lot answered curtly, "Listen to me. You are to remain in your current location until further notice. Keep the door closed, the lights off, and do not let anyone in."

"Are any efforts being made to get the situation under control?" she asked.

"We will be in touch at an appropriate time," was his only response, the line going dead with a click.

Fighting the urge to yell in frustration, Regina glared at her phone.

"I didn't know you'd tried your cellphone before," Locksley said quietly.

She glared, "I'm not an idiot!'

He shrugged and answered, "I didn't think about it either."

Sighing tiredly, she shifted to cross her legs in front of her, "Service must have come back on some time late last night. I have no idea why it was down to begin with."

"Storm?" he suggested.

Regina shrugged, "That's as good an explanation as any."

He didn't answer, and instead turned away from her to stare at the door.

"Are you expecting someone to come through it?" she asked sarcastically

"Eventually, maybe," he answered, slight irritation creeping into his voice, "Who it'll be, though, is the bigger question."

She glanced over at him and bit her lip in contemplation before deciding that there was really no harm in sharing what little information she had.

"I spoke briefly with an officer from the State Police's SWAT Team. He wasn't much help. He just said to stay where I was and wait," Regina informed him, "He wouldn't tell me anything about what information they have or what actions they're taking...or are planning to take."

Robin looked over his shoulder back at her and asked, "What does that mean?"

She shook her head, "I honestly don't know. The only thing I can say for sure is that they're playing their cards really close to the chest."

There was little to say to that, so he opted not to.

Through the silence, Regina studied him before finally asking, "Locksley, why did you come here?"

He looked back at her in confusion and asked, "Excuse me?"

"The office," she clarified, "Why did you come here when the riot started? I assume you were at third meal?"

"Just left," he corrected, "Will and I were in our cell when it happened."

She sat silently, waiting for him to go on.

"We made our way up here because we wanted to see if the COs actually had the situation under control."

Regina felt her lips open, "Is Scarlett-"

"I don't know," he anticipated her question, "We split up just before the staff area. Hopefully he made it somewhere safe."

She bit her lip. Will Scarlett was a problem child, which had landed him in prison in the first place, but he'd been an easy prisoner to deal with. Never made trouble. Of course, she had no way of knowing whether or not he might have been involved in this, but, from what she'd seen of him, it seemed unlikely. He wasn't exactly a criminal master-mind.

If, as Locksley clearly thought, he was not involved in the riot it meant he wouldn't be causing any danger, but also that he wouldn't have any protection from it.

"I'm sure he did," she lied. Judging by his non-reaction, he knew it, too.

Sighing, she thought for a moment before saying quietly, "Shift change."

"Pardon?" Robin asked.

Her attention drawn by his voice, Regina shifted in her seat, "The riot started at shift change. It must have been on purpose. That's the only reason I can think of why we were so ineffective in stopping it."

Staring into the distance, she concluded, "This was planned...organized...and I missed it."

Studying her face Robin said, "This isn't your fault."

"Isn't it?" she snarked, "This facility is my responsibility. I'm supposed to oversee it. Know all that goes on-"

Her self-recriminating rant was cut off by the sound of a crash in the distance. Both warden and inmate sprung to their feet.

Through the window the sound of several sets of heavy footsteps reached their ears.

Regina took a deep breath as the steps came closer to the office.

"Get behind me," Robin instructed, placing himself between her and the door.

She glanced at his back in surprise before recovering herself and ordering, "Give me the taser."

He didn't move, staring intently at the door.

"Locksley, give me the taser!" she repeated firmly.

Slowly, he reached into his pocket to pull out the taser, and pass it to her. She grabbed it from his hand, and hid it behind her back just as the door burst open and three inmates stepped in.

Regina recognized them immediately. Not all of them by name, but for the fact that they were members of an Aryan gang with presence inside the prison.

Upon seeing them one stepped forward. He was one of the gang higher ups, as indicated by the shamrock tattoo prominent on the back of his hand. 6 foot 4 and heavily muscled. Regina gripped the taser more tightly at seeing him standing before her without shackles.

Looking at her, he chuckled, "Well, would you look at this."

His two companions laughed as they stepped further into the room.

"Warden," he said mockingly, "I think maybe this would be a good time for you and I to discuss some...old business, we had."

The two Aryans laughed again, obviously agreeing eagerly with the suggestion.

"That's not going to happen, boys," Locksley stated matter-of-factly.

Looking at him dangerously, the lead Aryan said to him, "You better stay out of this, limey, or you'll regret it."

"Afraid it's too late for that," was Robin's only answer.

"Suit yourself," he shrugged as one of his crew moved forward and took a swing at Locksley. To his credit, he initially ducked away from it and even managed to get a blow into the other inmate's kidney.

She heard a struggle going on including the sounds of several punches landing, and, she as fairly certain, pained groans from Locksley. She did not see for certain, however, because her attention was drawn to the large lead gang-member stepping toward her.

Stepping behind her desk, she waited until he was close enough that she could smell him, but, before he could touch her, she flipped the guard off the end of the taser, swung it toward him and pressed down the trigger.

His body jerked with each buzz of electricity before crumpling to the floor. Seeing what had happened, one of the other Aryans lunged toward her. She tried to hit him with the taser as well, but he grabbed her hand and twisted it painfully backward, forcing her to drop the taser. It clattered against her desk, as the gang-member's weight pushed her back against it.

Easing one leg in between his, she brought her knee up hard into his groin. He stumbled backward with a cry of pain, freeing her.

Pushing off the desk, she wove toward the door, only to be hit with a wave of pain jolting through her body.

She fell hard on the floor, face down when it stopped. Gulping air she struggled to breathe, and remain cognizant of her surroundings.

"Big mistake, bitch," an angry voice muttered, shoving the taser into her back again. The pain was so sudden and strong she couldn't help but scream out against it.

It stopped abruptly.

Through watery eyes, she saw a blurry vision of Locksley hauling one of the men away from her, and tossing him across the room into her file cabinet. Within seconds the two others set upon him, knocking him to the ground.

Her vision faded out for a second, but when it came back she could see that all three were stomping and kicking at him on the ground.

It was the last thing she saw before a sudden bright light and deafening bang overwhelmed all of her senses.

* 0 * 0 * 0 * 0 * 0 * 0 *

She came to abruptly as her arms were wrenched behind her back, hard metal cuffs snapping onto her wrists.

For a panicked moment she began struggling, but found she was pinned down with a knee on her lower back.

"Stay still!" a voice barked through what felt like cotton in her ears.

Knowing she had no other choice, Regina stopped moving. When the pressure finally eased on her lower back, she turned her head to look around.

Three men in full SWAT gear and automatic weapons were standing in her office. Two hovering over where they had Locksley and the three Aryans cuffed face-down on the ground, and one near the door.

Abruptly, a fourth whom she had not noticed before, hauled her up off the floor, and out through the office area.

Regaining herself, she asked, "What's happening?"

He didn't answer, continuing to urge her along out through the entrance area, which was crawling with police officers and SWAT.

"What's going on?" she repeated, "Is the prison secure?"

Again, no answer.

"Look, I'm the warden of this prison!" she said angrily, jerking away from his grip.

"I don't care if you're the Queen of England!" the officer shot back, grabbing her arm and shoving her out the front door, "Move!"

Outside the prison, the sky was overcast with just enough light to see filtering through the clouds. The outdoor parking area was even more chaotic that inside. Several shackled inmates were being lead onto Maine Department of Corrections Buses. There was also more than one ambulance with lights flashing.

Regina saw EMTs loading Tamara Rice, one of her COs, into the back of one.

Another gurney whizzed by from behind her. She blinked as she made out who was on it. It was Nurse Belle French, though she was not immediately recognizable. The left side of her face was swollen and covered in blood.

Her eyes widened in horror at the sight, but the SWAT member pulled her in the opposite direction and shoved her up into the a bus parked away from the others.

She struggled briefly up the steps with her hands cuffed behind her. Looking around, she realized that the bus was filled with corrections officers. Some of which showing signs of minor injuries, other simply sitting with tired and depressed expressions.

"Sit!" the office her ordered, nudging harshly toward one of the benches.

The fake leather seat moaned as she sank into it. Letting out a sigh, Regina resigned herself to the fact that, even though the cavalry had arrived and re-gained control of the prison, she still was not in control.

 **TBC...**

 **This chapter was a little slow, but in the next one we will find out what happened with the riot, and there will be a kiss. ;-)**


	10. Chapter 9

Regina sat staring out the windshield of her car. Although part of her felt like screaming and hitting the steering wheel until her palms hurt, she didn't dare make a move.

Just the fact that she was sitting unmoving in her car was probably telling enough to the gaggle of reporters with high definition cameras camped just outside the prison gates. The staff parking lot was out in the open. They could see her. Watch her. Photograph any move she made.

So she didn't. She just sat still, her eyes drifting closed as she recalled the past five days...

* 0 * 0 * 0 * 0 * 0 * 0 *

 **5 days earlier:**

"Mills!" the officer's shout startled her to attention.

She had been at the county jail all day. For a few hours she'd been placed in an interrogation room where State Police asked a lot of very probing questions about the riot, and about the operations of the prison before the riot began. It was clear they were chomping at the bit for answers as to what happened, most likely at the directive of the governor's office.

Those were questions Regina would have liked to have as well, but she hadn't gotten any out of the State Police.

She'd spent the rest of the day in womens' lockup with a couple drunks, a few women arrested for possession of methamphetamine, and one angry broad who'd come in fresh from a domestic dispute.

Raising her head from the spot she'd been staring at on the floor, Regina saw the desk officer open the cell door and motion her out.

"You're free to go," the officer explained.

Regina breathed a sigh of relief, quickly making her way out of the cell.

"Your ride is waiting in the lobby."

She turned, confused, "My ride?"

The officer looked annoyed, "He made certain we give you the message."

She still had no idea what that meant, or who this 'ride' was, but it couldn't be any worse than what was in the holding cell, so she decided not to wait around to find out.

As she made her way quickly down the hall, she noted that every police officer she passed stopped to stare.

Word had obviously spread.

Holding her head up, she continued to forward with her jaw set.

When she finally emerged in the lobby, it became apparent who was waiting for her.

David was speaking with the officer at the front desk, but he stepped away immediately when he caught sight of her.

"Regina," he rushed over, "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine," she nodded.

Squeezing her shoulder awkwardly, David turned her toward the front door, "I came as soon as I figured out where you were."

Now that she was out of jail and her attention no longer only on explaining the riot, her heart began racing.

"Henry!"

"Mary-Margaret's with him," David assured her, "Come on, let's get out of here."

He didn't have to make the suggestion twice.

* 0 * 0 * 0 * 0 * 0 * 0 *

Mary-Margaret barreled into Regina before she'd even completely made it out of David's car. The school teacher squeezed her tightly, aggravating the aches from spending a night on the floor, and absorbing 50,000 volts of electricity, that had settled into her bones

"Oh, thank God," the younger woman gasped into her hair, "We were so worried."

She groaned in pain, "Mary-Margaret, I'm fine."

Mary-Margaret pulled back and opened her mouth to say something. Before she managed to get any words out, though, a yell echoed down the driveway.

"Mom!"

"Henry, wait!" a woman's voice ordered immediately.

By the time Regina turned, a smaller body slammed into hers even harder than Mary-Margaret had. She didn't care, though, as she basked in her son's embrace. Squeezing him as tightly as she could.

Her son had tears in his eyes when he pulled back.

"Are you okay?" he sniffed.

Blinking against tears of her own Regina nodded, "Yes, honey, I'm fine. I'm just fine now that I'm here with you, I promise."

As she hugged him close again, she was surprised to see Emma Swan standing in the doorway of her house.

"Let's go inside," David suggested, gently nudging both Regina and Mary-Margaret along.

Holding onto Henry she walked up the driveway into her house.

She nodded briefly to Emma, but went almost straight to the livingroom where she and Henry sat down on the couch together. He cuddled up to her without inhibition, which was basically confirmation that her fears about him having been worried about her had come true.

Trying not to dwell on the negative too much, she simply embraced her son tightly.

While wrapped up in him, Mary-Margaret floated around the room fussing. Finally, Regina agreed to a cup of tea in order to get rid of her for a little while.

When the other woman delivered the cup to her, though, she found it was actually helped her relax quite a bit.

Emma suggested they order pizza for dinner, and Regina, far from being concerned about nutrition at that moment, agreed with a wordless nod.

Even as she tried to put on a brave face and soothe Henry, she could tell he was still very tense, so, she suggested putting on a movie.

After some urging from David, Henry picked The Avengers.

Regina spent the next few hours staring at the TV, and forcing down a few bites of pizza.

When the credits finally rolled, she noted it was after 10:30 and told Henry that he needed to go to bed.

After walking him to his room and saying goodnight to him with a kiss, and a very tight hug she dragged herself to her own bedroom where she shed her clothes, and got into a scalding hot shower...where she stayed until the water ran cold.

When she finally emerged from the shower, Regina wrapped herself up in the warmest robe she owned, and slowly made her way downstairs.

David, Mary-Margaret, and Emma were waiting for her in the kitchen with pensive expressions. They remained quiet until after she'd gotten halfway through the second cup of tea Mary-Margaret presented her with.

"I kept Henry out of school yesterday," Emma explained quietly, "He was really stressed out so...I figured he wouldn't be able to concentrate."

Regina nodded. She and Emma had worked together in corrections for 5 years before Emma left to become a bail bondsperson, and Regina was promoted to warden. Although their personalities initially clashed, they eventually became good friends. Emma was even Henry's Godmother.

It was at that point that Mary-Margaret apparently stopped being able to restrain herself.

"Regina, what happened?" she asked shaking her head, "How...what happened?"

"That is a very good question," Regina answered irritably, "I don't have any answers to that, however! The State Police refused to tell me anything. They did, however, interrogate me for about two hours about the riot. Between that, and the fact that they arrested all the COs, tells me that they're desperate for answers, and suspect members of the Corrections Department might be involved."

Emma and Mary-Margaret looked shocked at the assessment. Staring quietly with open mouths.

"You're right about that," David said quietly.

She looked at him questioningly.

"While I was waiting for them to release you I spoke to a buddy of mine with the State Police," he explained, "He couldn't tell me much, but he did say it was a very organized operation. Apparently they even arrested someone at the power company who was involved."

"The power company?" Mary-Margaret gasped, "Why would someone at the power company try to help in a prison riot?"

Regina wondered the same thing.

"For pay apparently," David explained, "From what my buddy said they suspect Callum Gold was involved."

"Gold?" Regina asked, a sinking feeling settling into her stomach as she realized that she was, in fact, not surprised to hear that.

"Yeah," David nodded solemnly, "Regina, do you remember a few weeks ago when you asked me to look into your COs?"

"Yes," she nodded, "Weapons kept popping up in the prison, so it did make me think that someone on the outside was involved. I didn't have any proof, though."

"Well, I found that one of them had a connection to Gold."

"Who?" she demanded.

"Her name's Tamara Rice-"

"Rice?!" Regina was surprised, "I saw her outside the prison. It looked like she was hurt."

"Yes," David nodded, "I had to really push my friend at State on that, but he did let me know that five COs were killed, one, Rice, was seriously injured, as well as a nurse."

"Belle," she nodded, "I saw her too...what happened?"

David paused before answering quietly, "She was gang raped."

Emma's mouth dropped open silently in shock, and Mary-Margaret simply started sobbing quietly.

"What happened with Rice?"

"No one seems to be sure," he answered, "Although from what they're saying...it's looking like she might not make it."

Swallowing against the nausea that had settled into the pit of her stomach, Regina asked, "What was her connection to Gold?"

"Have you ever met her fiancé?" David asked.

She thought it over, "Yeah, I think once at last year's Christmas party. His name was Neal...something?"

"Neal Cassidy. However, he was born Baelfire Gold."

"What?!" Regina demanded, "He's..."

"Callum Gold's son," he explained, "Apparently he changed his name at 18, but...we'll it's not exactly looking like a co-incidence that his fiancée works at the prison where his father is locked up."

"So this was...what? An escape attempt?" she asked, "Gold's son and his fiancée were conspiring to break his father out of prison?"

The very idea was incredible. In this day and age attempts at prison escapes were almost unheard of.

"They aren't sure," David answered honestly, "However, I did manage to get out of my friend that they've already arrested Cassidy, but he isn't really talking."

Clenching her fists in anger, Regina answered, "So the bastard is as slick as his father?!"

"They aren't sure yet, or, if they are, the State Police aren't sharing," he shrugged, pausing to lick his lips apprehensively before continuing, "Regina, they know that at least one CO was involved, and it was pretty clear to me they believe it was more than just Rice. They let you go because they didn't have any evidence to charge you, but they aren't ruling anyone out yet...including the warden. You need to watch your back."

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 **Present:**

Opening her eyes, Regina drew a slow breath as she recalled her friend's words.

"Watch your back."

The next day her union representative had given her the same advice, and, today, their predictions had come true.

The Corrections Department had called her to their main office in Augusta, and...well, it had been enlightening.

Regina pulled open the door to her car, slid out, and walked into the prison stiffly. She went through security in a daze, barely remembering to pick up her briefcase from the scanner.

It dangled limply from her hand as she walked through the corridors to the main office. The COs she passed along the way looked at her.

Normally, she would have stopped to greet them, but she didn't have the energy for it at the moment.

They didn't speak to her either. The prison had returned to full operations three days after the riot. Understandably, though, all the staff were tense and somber.

She had just set her briefcase down on her desk when Kathryn burst into the room, "Warden! We need you right now!"

Clearing her throat, Regina said quietly, "Now really isn't a good time, Kathryn."

"It's an emergency!" her assistant insisted, "Two inmates have been stabbed!"

Whipping her head around, Regina quickly jogged behind Kathryn to the main area of the prison.

"Where?!" she demanded.

"Yard," Kathryn pointed.

Quickly scanning her keycard, she rushed out into the exercise yard.

She was relieved to see that CO Humbert was waiting for her. She was much decidedly not relieved, however, to see the forms of two inmates lying on the ground.

Forcing down queasiness, she addressed Graham, "Are they…?"

"Both bled out before the medics could arrive," Graham answered grimly.

"Did you contact the State Police?"

"We were waiting for you," he answered.

"Any witnesses?" Regina asked.

"Several COs and inmates," Graham said, "Although it may not matter...he didn't even try to get away."

With that, Graham motioned with his head to the edge of the yard.

Sitting up against the fence, shackled and guarded by three COs, was Callum Gold.

Regina looked at Graham in surprise, "It was Gold?"

"Yep," Graham nodded, "He used a sharpened bar of soap. Usually they aren't very effective but...apparently he found a way."

"Why?"

"I don't know, he hasn't said a word."

Steeling herself, Regina stalked across the exercise yard until she was standing directly over Gold.

He didn't look up at her, instead staring morosely at the ground.

"What the hell happened, Gold?" she asked angrily, "First an escape attempt, and now you murder two people?!"

Gold smirked mirthlessly, "You've got it all figured out haven't you?"

"So explain it!" she snapped, "Why did you do this?"

He stared at the ground silently for so long she was on the verge of storming away in disgust when the inmate finally spoke quietly, "How's Belle?"

Regina blinked in surprise, having to take a minute to comprehend the words, "Belle...Nurse French?"

Gold did not respond.

"What does she have to do with this?"

Again, no response.

Leaning over him, she spoke forcefully, "Are you saying that these are the inmates who raped her?"

Looking up at her, Gold met her eyes defiantly, "Well they certainly aren't anymore."

"You're actually telling me you killed these men because of what they did to Belle?" she asked skeptically, "Why? You don't exactly seem like the White Knight type."

"Because you know me so well?!" he shot back.

He spoke with such visceral anger that it actually took her back. Studying his face, she took in the expression on his face. His normal serpentine smugness was replaced by dullness, even...despair. Regina's lips fell open in shock as the pieces came together in her mind.

"You're in love with her," she breathed quietly.

Predictably, Gold did not answer.

Glancing over at the two deceased inmates, she swallowed heavily, "So you did this for what? Revenge? Because it'll somehow make her better? Make her love you?!"

Her voice rose with every question. She could feel the COs staring in shock at the level of emotion she was showing, but she couldn't stop. It was all becoming too much, and she couldn't hold herself together any longer.

"What does it matter?" Gold spat bitterly.

Drawing herself up, Regina swallowed her disgust and answered, "You're right, it doesn't, and now you're a murderer...so it never will."

Not waiting to see Gold's reaction, she turned on her heel and hurried back toward the prison. In the back of her mind she heard Graham call after her, but she did not stop.

Her insides were fluttering as she climbed her way up the steps to the main cellblock, and turned into the corridor to the staff area.

She barely made it through the security checkpoint they had set up after the riot. As soon as she stepped through the metal detector, continuing directly to the women's bathroom where she fell to her knees in one of the stalls and lost her breakfast.

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 **A/N: Gah that was angsty! It was hard to write. We'll find out why Regina was so upset in the next chapter. I can't promise the next installment will be less angsty, but I swear it will include the kiss that I didn't get to in this one!**


	11. Chapter 10

**Well here it is. Hopefully this'll be something nice before the 3 month anniversary of Robin's death in canon tomorrow on 8/8/16**

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Robin climbed the steps and walked up around to his cell. As he'd expected, he found Will there laying on his bunk staring into space.

"Hey, you missed second meal."

His cellmate simply continued to stare at the bunk above, not acknowledging his presence.

"You alright?" he asked, regretting the wording almost immediately. He knew that Will was not alright. He hadn't been since the riot.

With a sigh, Robin sat down on the edge of the bunk and nudged Will's leg.

"Will," he said gently, "Come on, mate, you need to get up."

Sliding his eyes closed, the younger man tossed one arm over his face.

"I'm not just going to go away, so you might as well talk to me!" Robin insisted.

"What the hell is there to talk about?" Will grumbled.

"What's been bothering you," he stated the obvious, guessing, "Is this about Nurse French?"

He didn't answer.

"I'm sorry," Robin said sincerely, "What happened to her was horrible."

Will shook his head, muttering, "Why didn't she lock the door?"

He knew the question was rhetorical, but Robin answered anyway, "Maybe she didn't realize there was danger at first. Maybe it all happened too fast. We can't know."

"If only I'd made it to the infirmary," the other man grumbled.

"It wasn't your fault, Will," he insisted.

Not bothering to address what Robin said, Will abruptly pushed himself off the bunk and began pacing around the cell agitatedly.

He sighed, "Will, what happened after we left each other?"

The other man stopped, the back of his shoulders slumping.

"I was jumped by one of them gang types," Will explained softly, "I managed to fight him off and get away in the dark, but there was so much going on...I found a closet on my way. Shut myself inside, stayed there until those SWAT boys broke the door down."

"It's probably good you did."

"Oh yeah?" Will challenged, "If I hadn't maybe I could have helped her, but I was too much of a bloody coward!"

"Will-"

"Look, you're right, okay?" Will interrupted, "She's out of my league...I'm locked up. I know that, but if I'd been there..."

Looking down at the concrete floor, Robin said softly, "You couldn't have done a thing."

The younger man turned back to him, opening his mouth to argue.

"You couldn't!" he insisted, "Believe me, I'd know."

Will looked at him questioningly.

With a sigh, Robin said, "I told you I made it to the warden's office, right? That we stayed in there the night?"

"Yeah."

"Well just before the police arrived three of those same gang types founds us," he explained, "They made it pretty obvious they didn't care about me, but her...I was determined not to let that happen, but I couldn't have stopped them if the cavalry hadn't shown up."

Will listened intently, but did not comment.

Not really looking at the other man, Robin rambled on, "Sometimes you can't...I couldn't protect her...just like I couldn't protect Marian."

His voice broke at the end of the sentence, squeezing his fingers over his eyes to brush away the tears. Getting emotional in prison was never a good idea, but sometimes it was too hard to hold back.

Pulling himself together, Robin sat up a straight as he could on a bunk-bed.

"I do understand what you're going through, Will," he said, "But just, you know...you just have to be glad that she survived. It may be hard but at least she still has a chance."

Will swallowed hard, but nodded as he sat down next to him on the bunk and answered, "Yeah. I guess that's something."

Robin patted Will's shoulder, hoping the gesture was comforting since it was all he could offer.

Before either could say anything else, however, heavy footsteps echoed down the corridor, and CO Glass appeared in the cell doorway.

Glancing at the two men sitting together on the bunk, he raised one eyebrow but did not comment.

"Locksley, stand up," he ordered, motioning him over.

Robin stood from the bunk, and walked over as instructed.

"What's going on?" he asked as Glass stooped to fix shackles around his ankles.

"Warden wants to see you," Glass grumbled as he locked the wrist shackles on.

Robin was surprised to hear that.

"What about?" he asked, wondering what it was that he could have done this time.

"You'll have to ask her that," Glass barked, gripping his arm and roughly turning him out of the cell.

Glass paraded him down the block, and into the corridor leading to the staff area.

It was a slow trip as they stopped at a security checkpoint that had never been there any of the other times Robin was brought to see the Warden. At it Glass showed his credentials and went through a metal detector, while Robin was subjected to a thorough pat-down before he was let through.

Glass then scanned his ID badge across a card reader to enter the main office, something else he couldn't remember the COs doing before the riot.

He thought warily about how it seemed all the new features were focused on protecting themselves rather than inmates.

Glass guided him through the offices, past Warden Mills' secretary at her desk, and stopped him in the doorway.

Glancing around, Robin recalled the last time he was in there. When he'd been dragged out by the SWAT team, his ears still ringing from the flashbang.

"Warden," Glass knocked on the doorframe somewhat tentatively, "You requested I bring inmate Locksley?"

The warden had been sitting behind her desk when they arrived. She stood with a nod and said, "Yes, please come inside."

She stood stiffly behind her desk as Glass led him over to a chair.

"Give us a minute," she instructed.

As Glass plodded away toward the door, Robin discretely studied her. She looked like she was alright, though tired. Even under her makeup, he could see dark circles around her eyes.

Glancing up, she ordered, "Close the door."

"Ma'am?" Robin could hear the surprise in the man's voice. He was a little surprised himself, as the staff never let themselves be alone in a room with an inmate.

"It's alright, Sidney," she insisted, "Just shut the door."

He didn't look back at Glass, but could hear a long pause before the door finally clattered shut. As it did so, he saw the warden's body subtly deflate almost as if in relief. She continued to stand behind her desk, not speaking or even really looking at him. Instead her eyes were distant, almost as if she were staring over his shoulder, though he could tell she wasn't looking at anything in particular. She stayed that way for what was probably only minute or two, but felt so long and drawn out Robin couldn't help shifting uneasily in his seat.

"You're probably wondering why I called you here," she suddenly spoke, still not meeting his eyes. After another long pause, she stiffened, looking down at him.

"I wanted to discuss what happened during the riot," she said, "What you did...I owe you thanks for it."

He blinked in surprise, "What?"

"You were right in what you said," she sighed, "It would have been impossible for me to reestablish order if I'd gone into the riot, and then when those men found us...you didn't have to help me. You risked your own safety...and you probably saved my life."

"I didn't do that," he stated.

"Yes," she said firmly, "You did. We both know it."

"Warden," he shook his head, but couldn't come up with anything to say.

She looked at him for a moment before speaking, "I took a look at your medical report, but...how are you?"

"I'm alright," he answered. The day after the riot they'd brought in new doctors to handle the inmates injured in the riot. After taking a look at him, they'd even sent him over to the hospital for x-rays, and determined he had two cracked ribs from where those Aryan freaks stomped him. The ER doctor had told him that he was lucky they didn't rupture his spleen, though. His chest was still covered in giant maroon bruises and hurt a lot to move, but there wasn't much he could do about it.

"I wanted to let you know that I appreciate what you did," she continued, muttering at the end, "While I still can."

He looked up at her, "While you can?"

His words drew his attention back to her, but she didn't speak. Glancing around he noticed a white box stashed next to her desk.

"Are you going somewhere?" he asked.

She laughed mirthlessly before saying, "No, I'm getting fired."

"What?" Robin asked in surprise.

"No officially yet," she continued on, "But I expect word will come any day now."

"Why?"

That caused another harsh laugh to fall from her throat, "There was a riot at this facility during which five COs and half-a-dozen inmates died, and many more were injured. Then less than a week later an inmate fatally stabbed two others. I think the better question might be why wouldn't I be?"

"They can't blame you for this-"

"Of course they can!" she argued, "And rightfully so. I was responsible for overseeing this prison, and this happened on my watch. This has shaken the public's faith in the Department of Corrections, and the state government in general. They want a sacrificial lamb, and I'm it...I don't even blame them."

"That's..." he began, shaking his head incredulously, "...not right."

She chuckled darkly again, "What are you saying you'll miss me?"

There was no right answer to that question.

Crossing her arms over her chest, the warden turned away pacing back and forth a couple times behind her desk, stepping out to stand beside it just to the side of the white packing box. Finally she took a deep breath and turned to him, "Locksley are you..."

She trailed off and shook her head before speaking again, "Why did you help me that night?"

"What?" he asked.

"Why did you help me?" she repeated, "You didn't have to. You could have avoided getting hurt. You had no reason to care, so why not-"

"Why not what?" he asked, letting his voice rise in a way that was probably not a good idea, "Leave you to go get killed?"

She shrugged.

"You still think that's the kind of person I am?"

"Are you?" she asked matter-of-factly, "I...did you think that helping me might be better for you when the riot was over? You said you understood that you'd be going back to lockup-"

Robin sighed tiredly, "You're going to think whatever you want, but I've said it over and over again. I never hurt my wife. I don't know what happened to her, and that kills me everyday! Not just that everyone thinks that I did it, but that I don't know who did. I was her husband. I was supposed to protect her...but if you really believe I'm the type of man who'd kill the mother of my child it doesn't matter what I say."

"Do I believe that?" she murmured, turning to look at the bookcase on the left wall from them, "I believe in our justice system. It's what I've based my entire career on...I have faith in it. I have to believe that it works."

He sighed, wondering what he really expected.

"...but...do I think you're the type of person who would..." she stopped to shake her head, "...I don't know."

He studied her as he stared thoughtfully into the distance, noticing the faintest visible glimpses of teeth working her lower lip.

"How did you get that scar on your lip?"

The warden looked at him. He figured she'd demand to know why he'd asked that question again, and he didn't actually know himself.

Indeed she did look at him questioningly for a few minutes, when she finally spoke it was so faint he barely heard her, "The day I told my family I was marrying my husband...we were very young and my mother...she thought I could do better...no matter what my opinion was on the issue."

Robin's lips dropped open in surprise, "I...I'm sorry."

She shook her head absently, "I don't regret anything. He was a good man."

"Was?"

"He died over 13 years ago, car accident," she muttered, "...I didn't even know at the time that I was pregnant with our son."

"Shit," he muttered before he could stop himself, "I'm sorry, really, and if they are going to fire you I'm sorry for that too."

She stared at him quietly.

"Robin," she finally spoke, "I don't know if...all I can say is that...I hope you find justice."

He could say he didn't know what he was doing, but that was not true. He did know what he was doing. He knew it was a bad idea and that this would probably go very badly, but both of their emotions were raw and open, and, if she was right, he might very well never see her again, so it was worth it even if he did end up on the business end of a nightstick.

The shackles jangled as he cleared the distance between them in less than three strides, cupped the line of her jaw between his hands, and brought her mouth up to his own.

The kiss lasted less than a minute...less than half a minute, realistically, but it was enough to feel that her lips were softer than any he'd ever kissed, and that, though she gasped in surprise, she didn't pull away until a knock at the door echoed through the room.

Immediately, she tore away from him and stepped aside, "Yes?"

The door swung open, revealing CO Glass and the warden's blond assistant standing in the doorway.

Glass' eyes widened and he asked, "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine," she answered firmly, though he was close enough that he could see her clench her hand shakily by her side.

"Um…" her assistant started, looking confused, "...Warden, you have a phone call from the Department of Corrections' main office."

The warden swallowed hard before nodding, "Alright, I'll take it in here."

"Let's go, Locksley," Glass dragged him from the room as she stepped behind her desk to pick up the handset.

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 **TBC...**

 **A/N: Hope you liked it and that their conversation seemed realistic. The story will shift and be a little different from here, but hopefully it will be a good thing. It will mean less OutlawQueen interaction for a while, but the wait will be worth it. I'm not Adam Horowitz, I mean it when I say that!  
**


	12. Chapter 11

"Regina...Regina!"

She jumped as her attention snapped back to her surroundings.

Graham chuckled, "You alright?"

"Yeah," Regina nodded, realizing that she'd been zoning out.

"Where'd you go?" he asked, taking a sip of his beer.

"No where," Regina shook her head as she swallowed a long sip of her Jack and Coke, "I'm sorry, Graham. I know I asked you to come out tonight, but I'm afraid I'm not very good company."

She looked ruefully around after the apology. They'd gone an average bar in Storybrooke, although it was a small town it was, predictably, busy like it was every Friday night.

"Are you okay?" Graham asked again, "I'm sorry about what happened to you."

She quirked her lips, "Well it might end up being a good thing for you."

"How do you mean?"

"They're going to need a replacement for me," Regina pointed out.

"I thought you said they were sending in someone from another prison?" Graham asked in confusion.

"Yes," she nodded, "But whoever it is might only be a temporary appointment. I don't think it was an accident, Graham, that the riot happened on a day you were off. You're the best corrections officer at our prison, probably one of the best in the entire department. You could get the job easily...be better at it than I ever was."

He chuckled, "Well I appreciate that, but you're selling yourself short. Keeping order is one thing, but the million problems you dealt with everyday...you were a good warden Regina. You never lost your cool. The riot was just bad luck. It could have happened to anyone, and it's bullshit that they're hanging you out to dry for it! All the COs think so!"

"Thanks, but I really didn't ask you here to talk about that," she answered.

"Why did you?"

She sighed heavily, "I guess I'd hoped I could just not think about it for a while. Why did you agree to come?"

Graham chuckled, "Well to be honest, I'd had thought perhaps tonight might end like it did last time we got drinks together."

Regina winced internally. She and Graham had ended up spending one night together about six months prior after bumping into each other on a night he was out alone, and she had been stood up by a blind date. Afterward they agreed not to try taking it anywhere, however, because it would complicate things at work.

If she were honest, though, she might have asked Graham to get drinks with her that night with the thought that they might end up in bed again, and that it would help her not think about...things. Henry was having a sleepover with a friend of his from school again, and the call from the Department of Corrections confirming her termination had come in that afternoon, so on her way out she'd asked Graham if he wanted to meet her for drinks after his shift.

That plan had clearly failed miserably, though.

"I'm sorry," she apologized again, "You should go. It's still early."

"It's alright, Regina," he insisted, "I'm not the kind of asshole who refuses to be friends with a woman if I'm not going to get sex in return. If you need to talk I don't mind listening."

Regina bit her lip. It was a tempting offer, but she knew there was no way she could take him up on it. She couldn't talk to Graham about this. She could barely even organize her thoughts in her own mind, much less try to explain them to someone else.

"No," she shook her head, "I'm alright really. I don't really want to talk about it, I just...need to sulk I guess."

"It's understandable," Graham assured her, "Anyone would."

"Thanks," she said warily, "But I don't want to bring you down."

"Regina-" he started with a sigh.

She interrupted, "The bartender likes you. I saw her checking you out when she gave us our drinks. You should go talk to her."

"I'm not going to go talk to another woman while I'm out with you," he argued.

"You should," she insisted, "This isn't a date. We both know that, and I'm not even really in the mood for company. It's fine, really, I want you to. I'll feel bad if I'm the reason you miss out on having a good time tonight."

Graham looked hesitant, "Are you sure?"

"Yes," Regina nodded, "I just need to be alone to cry into my beer...whiskey."

Graham chewed the inside of his cheek thoughtfully, "If you need a ride home-"

"I'll get a cab," she told him.

"Okay," he nodded, "But, still, if you need anything call me. No matter what!"

She smiled a genuinely for the first time that day. She and Graham were never going to be anything. Their lifestyles weren't compatible. She was a working mother with a teenage son, and Graham was a single man with no particular aspiration to settle down any time soon. It was nice, though, to hear that he really did care about her as a friend.

Finally he gave in after another assurance that she wanted to be alone, and left her at the table to knock back the last of her drink. She swallowed it heavily, trying to keep unwanted thoughts from entering her mind.

She nearly jumped 6 feet in the air when a hand nudged her shoulder from behind. Turning on her barstool, she found herself looking into the grinning face of Emma Swan and her long time boyfriend August.

"Hey," the blond smiled.

Regina let out a heavy breath, "Hi Emma, hi August."

"Good to see you, Regina," August with an easy grin. The man always struck her as somewhat flakey, but he was undoubtedly charming.

"So what are you doing here tonight?" she asked slyly, sliding onto Graham's vacated barstool, and leading August to the next one over by the hand, "We saw Graham Humbert on our way in. Were you two here together by chance?"

She sighed. Emma had known Graham from the time all three of them were CO's at Coastal Correctional, and, like many of her friends, she enjoyed nothing more than trying to get Regina to dish about her love life.

"Just having a drink," she answered.

"Oh yeah?" Emma asked, both her and August waggling their eyebrows.

"Not like that!" Regina rolled her eyes, leaving out the fact that both of them had started the night thinking it might be, "We decided to have a few drinks because today is my last day with the department."

"What?!" Emma's voice echoed off the walls, causing several heads to turn and stare at them.

"Keep your voice down!" Regina hissed.

"What do you mean this was your last day with the department?" the other woman demanded, ignoring the directive to lower her voice, "You never said anything about quitting your job!"

"Yeah, because it wasn't my idea!" she answered sarcastically.

Understanding, Emma's eyes widened, "They fired you?"

Regina didn't bother to answer.

"That is such crap!" the blond woman cried, "They can't do that!"

She swallowed the last sip of her drink which was mostly melted ice-water, "They already have, Emma. They need someone to go down for this."

Emma shook her head.

"I'm sorry," August said sincerely, "That's really awful."

Regina sighed. She really didn't want to be having this conversation again, though she knew she'd probably have to several times again over the next few days.

"It's done," she shrugged, "Going on and on about it won't do any good, and, frankly, I'd prefer not to."

Emma looked at her sympathetically, "Alright, ya know what? We need another round of drinks!"

Regina held down another tired sigh. She didn't particularly want to spend the night with Emma and August any more than Graham or anyone else, but she didn't have it in her to argue again...and another drink did, at least, sound appealing.

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A few hours later Regina found herself nursing a drink, she wasn't sure what number this one was, while Emma and August cuddled across the table, giving each other naughty looks every few seconds.

Finally, she rolled her eyes, "You know you're free to get your own table!"

Emma managed to tear her gaze away from her writer-boy for long enough to look at Regina questioningly.

"Why don't I go get us another round?" August offered.

Emma nodded to him as he slipped away. Once he was gone she turned back to Regina, "Alright, what's got you in such a pissy mood? Did you and Graham have a fight? Is that why he left?"

"No!" she protested, "I just didn't ask to become a third wheel tonight."

"No," the blonde shot back, "It's something more than that. I can tell."

"It's nothing…" she said into her drink, tapping her nails on the rim of her glass.

Emma continued to stare at her expectantly.

Finally, Regina sighed, "Alright. Hypothetical question: have you ever gotten close to someone you shouldn't? Someone you have every reason to find morally repugnant?"

Emma looked surprised, "Well, yeah, I suppose we've all had that person we're into even though we don't want to be. Although…morally repugnant? That's a little dramatic isn't it?"

"Not really," Regina muttered.

The other woman narrowed her eyes, "Who exactly are we talking about?"

"No one you know."

"Because we run in different social circles or because he's serving five to ten?" she asked.

Regina looked up at her friend, "I do not appreciate that implication!"

"Okay," Emma said doubtfully, "Look, Regina, all I can say is that usually if something feels like it's wrong it means it is."

"Yes, thank you. I am actually capable of telling the difference between right and wrong!"

"I didn't say you weren't. I just want you to be careful-"

"Just forget about it!" Regina shook her head, "I don't know what I'm saying."

"Regina-"

She tossed her handbag over her shoulder and stood, "I've had too much to drink. I'll get cab home."

"Are you sure?" the other woman asked.

"Yeah," Regina waved her off, "I'll talk to you later."

"Okay," Emma nodded, "Call me next week, okay?"

She grunted in response as she dug out her cellphone to call a taxi, and started making her way to the door.

* 0 * 0 * 0 * 0 * 0 * 0 *

After paying the cab driver, Regina tiredly dragged herself up the driveway and into her house.

It was dark and cold inside, and the door echoed as it closed behind her. With a sigh she hung up her jacket and handbag.

Her heels clicked against the floor as she continued into the kitchen. The light stung her eyes as she flipped in on. Squinting in pain, she took a glass down out of the cabinet and filled it up from the water dispenser in the fridge.

After chugging it down she leaned against the refrigerator. She was exhausted, and the drinks she'd had tonight made her feel off balance and floaty. She knew, however, that there was now way she'd be able to get to sleep any time soon.

Glancing around with bleary eyes she caught sight of the white box containing all her things from work that she tossed on the table earlier in the evening before going out to meet Graham.

In her half-impaired state she made the impulse decision to unpack the things inside...confirm to herself that she was really moving on with her life.

Knocking the lid off she reached inside expecting to find some of the important papers from HR about her termination in between coffee mugs and pictures of her and Henry.

What she encountered, sitting on top of all of it, though was a blank yellow folder that she could not remember packing in there.

She immediately felt the weight of something inside, and upon opening it, a rounded key that she definitely did not recognize tumbled out onto the counter.

After staring at the key in surprise for a moment, she glanced inside the envelope and found only a scrap of plain paper. Written on it in a rather elegant cursive script was an address, and a number...1111.

Feeling all vestiges of the alcohol draining away immediately, Regina took a shaky breath and pulled her cellphone out of the pocket of her slacks

Graham answered on the second ring, his voice greeting her over the sound of several people talking in the background.

"Hi, it's Regina," she said.

"Hi," he said hastily, the phone echoing for a moment before the background noise faded, "Are you alright? Where are you?"

"I'm at home," she answered.

"Is everything okay?"

"Uh...did you put something my things from the office today?"

"What?"

"My things that I took from my office! I had them packed in a box. Did you put something in there?" Regina repeated.

"No, I didn't put anything in the stuff from your office," Graham asked in confusion, "Regina, what's going on?"

That was a very good question, that she, unfortunately, had no answer to.

"It's nothing," she finally said hastily, "I should go. You have a good night."

"Regina, wait-" he started to protest, but she'd already hit the 'end call' button.

 **TBC...**


	13. Chapter 12

Regina finished assembling a peanutbutter sandwich and packed it, along with a container of baby carrots, into Henry's lunch box.

Turning around to the kitchen table, she sighed as she watched her son nibbling on mouse-sized bites of the oatmeal he'd requested for breakfast.

"Henry, eat!" she scolded, "You're going to miss your bus at this rate."

He pulled a face, but took a slightly bigger bite...one slightly bigger bite.

She sighed in exasperation, walking over to sit down at the table next to him, "Henry Daniel Colter, you are too old for breakfast to be such a battle!"

Henry simply sighed in response.

"What is wrong?" Regina asked.

"Nothing," he insisted.

She crossed her arms and sent him a look that conveyed that was not an acceptable answer.

Dropping the spoon into his bowl, her son looked up at her, "It's just that it's been a week and you still won't tell me what we're going to do!"

She blinked in surprise, "What do you mean?"

"Since you lost your job!" he went on, "Are you going to get another one? Are we going to have to move? What are we going to do?!"

"Henry!" she stopped him, "Look, I don't know what we're going to do, but, yes, I am going to get another job. These things just take time-"

"Doing what?"

"I don't know yet!" Regina said firmly, "It will take some time for me to see what's out there and what my options are. You do not need to be worrying about that, though."

He stared back at his oatmeal.

"Henry, look at me," she instructed. Reluctantly, he obeyed, "We are going to be just fine."

He didn't seem happy with that answer.

"Okay," she sighed, "I know you're getting older, and you feel like you want to protect me, but I'm your mother. It's my job to take care of you, not the other way around! And I am telling you that we are going to be fine. Do you hear me?"

Henry didn't answer.

"The two of us are going to make it through this," she continued, "We always have ever since you were born!"

"Since my dad died you mean?" Henry guessed.

Regina swallowed against the lump in her throat. Henry only had a sense of his father abstractly. He'd never known him, and that still pained her.

"Yes," she answered quietly, before clearing her throat and standing up, "Now, enough of this. Your bus will be here any minute, and you've wasted all this time, so now you'll just have to tough it out until lunch!"

She picked up the half-eaten bowl of oatmeal and scraped it down the sink. In truth, she was more worried about Henry than mad at him, but stern disciplinarian was a role of hers that they were both familiar with.

After sending the cold remains of his breakfast down the garbage disposal, Regina pressed his lunch box into his hands, and ushered Henry out into the door to wait for the school bus.

Going back to the kitchen, she wiped down the counter and poured herself another cup of coffee until she heard the high pitched squeal of the school bus's brakes.

Making her way to the front door, she glanced out the window as the bus pulled away to make sure Henry had gotten on it.

Satisfied that he had, she gulped down the last of her coffee, rinsed the cup in the sink, and loaded it into the dishwasher.

Climbing the steps up to her bedroom, she opened her closet and looked inside with a sigh. The previous week had been a confusing haze of going through her finances to come up with a budget that would cover her and Henry's living expenses for the next few months, figuring out whether to purchase a health insurance continuation from the DOC or a new plan, filling out the paperwork to transfer her savings from the state's account to her personal bank. She'd also spent some time entertaining Emma, Mary-Margaret, and, to her surprise, a few former employees who stopped by with well wishes.

Now, with no pressing tasks, everything felt uncertain and odd. Even the act of getting dressed in the morning had become something awkward.

Last week, she'd put on her normal pants-suit without even thinking about it. It wasn't until Thursday that she realized there was no reason for her to be doing so.

With a deep sigh, she started sorting through her outfits before finally selecting a blue dress. She liked dresses, but the job of warden had required a certain tough image and pants made that easier. Now that wasn't a concern, though, she figured it'd be nice to wear some of the things she'd had fewer occasions to. It was certainly better than the yoga pants and old t-shirts she'd lived in the past few days.

After getting dressed, Regina went down to her office to browse job hunting sites and saved a few listing that looked worth sending resumes to.

Hitting 'send' on the last one, she closed her laptop and leaned back in her chair, trying to decide what to do next.

She'd already been over every room in the house the end of last week when she'd finished all pressing paperwork, and decided cleaning sounded like an appealing alternative to thinking.

When she found herself wondering if she'd missed all of the TV morning talk shows, Regina made the decision to throw on her coat and drive down to Main Street. She didn't really have any destination in mind, but found that Clarke's Drugstore was having a sale, so she decided to stock up on laundry detergent, toothpaste, toilet tissue, and shampoo for herself and Henry while it was cheap.

As she was carrying the bags back to her car, though, she abruptly collided with someone outside the flower shop Game of Thorns.

"Oh, excuse me!" an accented voice apologized.

Regina's gaze snapped up as she recognized the voice, "Belle?"

The younger woman stood before her in a black turtleneck and jeans. Her face looked much better than last time Regina saw her, though there was still a big green-yellow bruise and healing cut at her hairline.

"Warden," Belle greeted quietly.

She cleared her throat awkwardly, "Just 'Regina' now."

"Oh," Belle nodded, "Right, yeah, I heard on the news about you getting...umm...sorry, I shouldn't be saying that!"

"What? The truth?" Regina shrugged, and leaned over to gather up the things she had dropped.

"Here, let me help you."

"That's alright-"

"No," Belle shook her head, "It was my fault. I wasn't looking where I was going."

Regina shifted uncomfortably once they had gathered up all of her items and put them back in the shopping bag, "How are you?"

"I'm...taking it day to day. I don't think I'll be going back to work...there...either," Belle said, staring past the older woman absently.

Seemingly snapping back to attention, Belle went on, "For now I'm just helping out. My dad owns the shop."

"Oh," Regina commented, though internally she was wondering what kind of person would use his daughter as free labor two weeks after she'd been brutally raped!

As if reading her mind, the younger woman explained quietly, "It helps to be doing something, I um...it helps."

Not knowing what to say, Regina simply nodded.

Clearing her throat, Belle attempted a polite smile, "Well, I should be getting back inside. We just got a shipment that needs to be unpacked."

"Of course," Regina agreed.

After an extremely awkward goodbye, the two women parted ways. Belle going back inside the floral shop, and Regina continuing on to her car.

Dumping the grocery bags into the back, she plopped down in the driver's seat and squeezed her eyes shut as she felt a migraine starting to brew behind them. She dug through her handbag until she found a bottle of Excedrin. Swallowing two of them dry, she took three deep breaths and tried to relax.

Finally, Regina opened her eyes again and tossed her handbag back over to the passenger's seat causing it to tumble over and spill its contents into the footwell.

With an exasperated eye-roll, she leaned over the gearshift to pick up her things which included the yellow envelope she'd found in the contents of her office over a week ago.

Leaning back into her seat, Regina stared at the folded envelope containing the mysterious rounded key and anonymous note. Monday of the previous week she'd called Kathryn to ask if she put the envelope in the box. Her assistant informed her that she had not.

A quick online search revealed that the address on the note was to a storage facility in Misthaven, a fact that cleared up absolutely nothing.

Misthaven and Storybrooke were very close to each other. Several of the employees at the prison, and a few of her acquaintances who currently lived in Storybrooke, Mary-Margaret among them, were from the town. Regina couldn't think of anyone she currently knew who lived there, though, other than Keith Nottingham, and there was no way he could have put the envelope in the box. He hadn't been to the prison since that one visit nearly two months ago. In fact, she hadn't heard from him at all since their chance run-in with David and Mary-Margaret.

Shaking her head, she threw the envelope down in the seat, yanked her seatbelt out, and started up the car.

* 0 * 0 * 0 * 0 * 0 * 0 *

From the outside the storage facility looked mostly normal, if somewhat dated in construction. That wasn't an uncommon thing to see in rural Maine, though.

Taking a deep breath, she got out of her car and walked up to the main office.

The inside looked like the office of any normal DIY moving company. Cluttered with stacks of clean moving boxes, hand trucks, and packing supplies. Behind the front desk a large, middle-aged man sat watching an old flatscreen television mounted to the wall.

"Can I help you?" he asked, glancing at her somewhat disinterestedly.

"Um," Regina began, pulling the envelope out of her bag. "I have this key and a number. 1111."

With a bored expression he picked up a clipboard and ran his finger along a schematic, presumably of the facility.

"Okay, your unit is in the west-wing. It's right through that door," he instructed, jerking his thumb towards on of the two open doorways on either side of the office, "Take two lefts then a right. Just follow the numbers. Are you interested in purchasing any moving supplies today?"

Staring at the doorway, Regina slowly shook her head 'no.'

Seeming content to go back to watching his television and let her fend for herself, the man behind the desk informed her that the facility was open until 8PM.

It was barely 11AM.

The heels of her shoes echoed as she made her way through the rows of units. The inside of the facility was clean and well lit, and she noted passing several security cameras along the way. She wasn't sure whether their presence made her feel at ease or more nervous.

Finally, she stood in front of the unit marked 1111. It had the same bright blue overhead door as all of the others, and a red LED panel to the side with a circular keyhole to looked like it would match the key that had inexplicably appeared among her things. Above the LED panel was a single light switch.

Regina reached forward and flipped the switch to 'on', noting a thin streak of bright yellow light appearing from behind the cracks on the side of the door.

Digging through the envelope, she pulled out the key, inserted it into the keyhole and turned until it clicked. A beep chimed from the panel, a loud clicking sound came from the door, the metal jumping slightly, and the light on the panel turned from red to green.

Standing completely still, she stared at the panel. After a long pause and a few shaky breaths she muttered to herself, "What are you doing, Regina?"

This was insanity. A mysterious key to a storage unit and note appear by some unknown means, and she decides to go see what's in it by herself? She hadn't even brought her personal weapon with her!

Looking at the bottom of the door, she shook her head. This was a very bad idea.

She should have told David about it as soon as she found the key. Should call 911 right now. She didn't know what was inside the unit. It could be anything. Possibly something dangerous. Maybe even a bomb rigged to go off as soon as she opened it?

With a scoff, Regina rolled her eyes at herself. Now THAT was insanity!

Like everyone in law enforcement, she had people from her past who might be looking for payback, but what did she think she was living the movie Saw and they'd go through some overly elaborate plot to lure her into blowing herself up rather than just shooting her in a dark alley?

In all likelihood the story behind this key was that, although it wasn't Graham's or Kathryn's, it belonged to another employee at the prison and had been put in with her personal effects by mistake. The worst thing that would happen from opening that door would be she'd invade a former colleague's privacy.

What she should do is take the envelope and its contents back to the prison, and let the new warden know it was given to her in error.

She was about to relock the unit and take the key out of the panel with something made her stop.

With an exasperated sigh, she finally squatted down, grabbed the handle on the door, and pulled it until it flew upward and clattered open.

Staring into the space she found it contained several pieces of furniture and plain brown boxes.

Letting out a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding, Regina cautiously stepped inside. Dodging between a nondescript beige sofa and a wooden dining table with several boxes on top, she noted that, although cluttered, the unit seemed to be organized. She did not recognize any of the items inside, though.

An annoyed sigh fell from her lips, and she glanced absently at the nearest box. The top was open, and inside she could see it contained a variety of dusty, but fairly new, books.

She hesitated for a moment, but, deciding that she'd already come this far, flipped the lid of the next box open. More books.

This was not clearing anything up, and, based on this storage unit's innocuous contents, seemed to support the idea that it belonged to a department employee.

On impulse, she opened the third box on the table. Inside were a few toys and clothes...baby clothes to be exact, most of them newborn size. Gently moving a few of the clothes aside, she found an animal mobile that was obviously meant to hang over a crib.

Feeling nausea rising in her throat, she slammed her handbag down on the table and ripped the closest box on the floor open. It contained several DVDs and small electronics. Quickly she moved onto the next box. Women's shoes ranging from hiking boots to 4 inch black pumps...having a substantial shoe collection herself, she noted in the back of her mind that they all looked to be the same size. The next two boxes contained clothes, obviously for an adult, though she didn't stop to look any further at them. The one after that more pairs of shoes, men's styles. The final box she opened was more books, but the one on top made her pause. It was a white photo album with the words 'Our Wedding' etched in silver lettering.

Biting her lip, she snatched up the album, telling herself that she'd take a quick look, and, hopefully, clear up once and for all whose storage locker she'd accidentally been given the key to!

When she flipped the album open the idea proved correct, though nothing could have prepared her for the answer. The first page contained a full page photo of a beautiful dark-haired woman in a soft lacey veil lighting a candle simultaneously with her groom...Robin Locksley.

Regina nearly dropped the album in shock at the sight. Looking around the storage unit, she swallowed as the queasiness instantly rushed back.

This stuff belonged to the Locksleys. It was probably the entire contents of their house. The house where Marian Locksley was murdered.

Those books...shoes...clothes...they belonged to a dead woman!

Slowly Regina drew breaths. The air going painfully in and out of her lungs.

Looking back down at the picture, she studied the image before her. She could only blame morbid curiosity for why she turned the page.

On each page were glossy photos of a wedding ceremony, the couple in professionally posed shots, candids that were clearly taken with guests at the reception. The sort of things found in every wedding album. The final page contained a candid of the couple dancing together, staring into each other's eyes.

Gently closing the book, Regina set it aside on the table and glanced back at the box. There was another photo album that had been beneath the wedding album.

She didn't even bother to think about it before picking it up. This one was mostly prints from a digital camera rather than professional photos like the wedding album. Ones of...everything. The Locksleys at holidays and unknown celebrations with various people. The two posing in windbreaker jackets in front of a grassy down, obviously somewhere in Europe. With a large man and a tiny blond on a beach, the two women wearing matching darkred bikinis. Several of Marian in overalls painting a room, and making irritated faces at the camera. More holidays. One of Marian lifting her shirt to show off the tiny baby bump appearing on her lower abdomen.

That one caused Regina to have to swallow hard again.

The next two pages chronicled the bump's growth before quickly progressing into page after page of one of the most adorable babies she'd ever seen. The ones that gave her most pause were the first one, Marian Locksley holding him in her hospital bed her hair limp and sweaty, but the quiet joy on her face clear. It brought her back to the first time Henry had been put in her arms...staring into his eyes for the first time.

The other one was of Robin Locksley slumped backward on the same beige couch next to her with their son sleeping on his chest. Instinctively she stopped to study the couch for a moment, as if it would somehow hold answers for her.

Continuing on the album was slices of the family's life as their son grew bigger, and various other events occurred. Several later pictures were taken inside or in front of a bar called The Longbow. One in particular was of Robin standing outside the bar next to the sign leaning easily against the doorframe.

The picture was a good one...clear and expressively shot.

It was the one she was looking at when she heard a voice from behind her demand, "Who are you and what the hell are you doing in here?"

 *** 0 * 0 * 0 * 0 * 0 * 0 ***

 **TBC...**

 **A/N: The next update won't be as quick after this as I have a crazy couple weeks coming up.**


	14. Chapter 13

She stood frozen for what felt like hours, but really was probably only a few seconds. The seemingly alternate reality of being found in a veritable stranger's storage locker made time appear to slow down, though.

In the back of her mind Regina registered that the voice was vaguely familiar as she turned to face whomever had caught her.

As she turned the other woman blinked in surprise and asked, "Warden Mills?"

Regina cleared her throat, the vestiges of her professionalism immediately coming up, "I remember you. You're Robin Locksley's attorney."

"Yes, Mulan Fa. Why are you here?"

"Um..." Regina stammered, realizing she was still holding the open photo album in her hands, "...I was just..."

There was really no way to finish that sentence.

After a few moments silence, Mulan stepped forward, and took the photo album out of her hands. Glancing down at the page Regina had been studying when she arrived, the woman closed it, set it back into the box, and said, "I think you'd better come with me."

Wordlessly, Regina nodded. After picking up her handbag from the table, she stepped out of the storage unit. Watching her carefully, Mulan hit a button on the inside of the unit that sent the overhead door slowly sliding closed.

Once the door was all the way down she flipped of the light, and locked the door at the LED panel using the key Regina had left in it.

The younger woman then began down the hall, moving slowly to make sure Regina followed.

She kept her hands clenched in the pockets of her coat all the way through the main office area with where the facility's listless proprietor barely took note of them.

Outside the slightly overcast sky had turned fully grey, and begun to lightly sprinkle.

Stopping in her tracks outside the automatic doors, Regina drew herself up, "Alright, what is going on here?"

"Shouldn't I be asking you that?" Mulan asked incredulously, "How did you find out about this place and why are you here?"

Being unable to argue that point, she answered the questions honestly, "I don't know."

"Excuse me?"

With a sigh, Regina explained about the key and note appearing in her things when she left the prison, even going so far as to show Mulan the note and envelope they were in.

The lawyer studied the note for a minute before Regina, gathering her confidence, spoke again, "Now how about you tell me how you knew I was here and where exactly you think you're taking me before I call the police?"

Mulan looked up at her with a raised eyebrow, "And tell them what? That I caught you breaking into my client's storage unit?"

Another very good point.

"I did not break in!" Regina argued, "I was given that key, and I didn't know the unit it went to belonged to your client."

"You knew it didn't belong to you," the other woman argued, "And yet you seemed content to go through though its contents."

Regina remembered why she'd always hated dealing with lawyers.

"I was just trying to figure out who those things belonged to," Regina answered back, "And why someone might have given me the key and unit number. There has to be a reason for that, wouldn't you say?"

Crossing her arms with an unimpressed expression, Mulan shrugged, "Or maybe you're lying. To answer your question, though, I knew you were here because I manage all of Robin's finances while he is...unable to. That includes the lease on this unit, and, as such, I have access to all security features. One of which is automatic text alerts whenever the unit is opened. When I got the text today I figured it was probably just the facility performing some kind of maintenance, but when I called the owner he told me that some woman who said she had a key came by looking for the unit."

The other woman looked slightly emotional at mentioning Locksley, though her cold, professional mask instantly went back up as she launched into her explanation. It made Regina wonder if this woman was more than just a his lawyer. That line of thought made it impossible for her to not revisit the memory of that brief moment on her last day at the prison...

Before she could take those thoughts too far, though, Mulan continued on, "I was very surprised to find that it was you, Warden. Although I suppose you aren't a warden anymore are you?"

Regina crossed her arms and met the question with a challenging look.

The other woman didn't seem bothered by it as she went on, "Which brings us back to this key. I have to say your story about it mysteriously appearing in your things isn't very believable. What is believable is the possibility that you stole this key from my client's personal effects which were in storage at your prison. Your former prison."

Regina narrowed her eyes, "And why would I do that?"

"Well you did just get fired," Mulan said bluntly, "You know that my client is locked up and has no family in the area-"

"You really think that I intended to rob your client?"

The other woman shrugged, "I think it's a reasonable possibility. It wouldn't be the first time someone at the Department of Corrections abused their power for personal gain. Maybe this is a regular thing for you...and others who worked under you."

"That is absurd!"

"You were just forced to resign for allowing a deadly riot to occur. The state police, not to mention the public, might be very interested in knowing just how corrupt the disgraced former warden really was."

Regina gritted her teeth, trying to squash down the urge to scream at this woman and her arrogant insinuations.

"Well?" she finally asked after the two stared each other down for a moment, "Are you going to call them or not?"

"That depends on you," Mulan answered.

"On me?" she asked, "So you just accused me of corruption and now you're going to blackmail me?"

To her surprise, the lawyer actually had the decency to look embarrassed.

"I wouldn't call it blackmail," she answered, her tone more gentle this time, "Just a small favor."

"And what favor would that be?" Regina asked.

"That you come with me to my office, and we have a conversation," Mulan answered.

"About what?"

"I'll let you know when we get there."

"I don't think so, Ms. Fa!"

Mulan sighed, "Fine, I want you to look to at my client's case file and give me your honest opinion. You do that and I won't involve the police in what happened here today."

"You want my opinion on your client's case?" she asked skeptically, "I'm not a lawyer."

"No, you're a corrections officer," Mulan said, "In your opinion all inmates are guilty, right?"

Normally that would have been an easy question for Regina to answer, but given she was asking in reference to Locksley it had her shifting uncomfortably on her feet and not meeting the other woman's eyes.

"I want you to look at my client's case file and see if you still believe that."

"Why?" Regina asked in genuine curiosity, "What does my opinion matter? I'm not a judge. I'm not even a corrections officer anymore."

"Because judges are supposed to be impartial, but last month I failed to convince a judge, and, because of that, my client is still sitting in prison," Mulan shook herself before continuing, "I figure if someone who isn't trained to be impartial finds reason to doubt...it means there's hope I won't fail again next time."

Regina studied the taller woman.

"You seem very dedicated to your client," she commented, "Who exactly is he to you?"

She didn't ask it outright, but this was twice that the Asian woman had let emotion show when talking about Locksley. It made her wonder if she was more than just his lawyer.

She couldn't help but recall Locksley kissing her, and how, not only had she not stopped him, but, although she'd squashed the feelings down immediately and made a point not to examine them, it had made her breath catch and electricity zing through her body.

She also remembered what she'd said to him immediately before it happened. Acknowledging out loud that he didn't seem like the type of person who could murder his wife.

"How about you don't ask me that question and I won't ask you?" Mulan shot back, her face expressionless.

Regina felt her stomach sink. That answer could only mean one thing. She let her eyes slide closed, recalling how torn she'd been about Locksley during and after the riot. How she'd felt inexplicably safe while trapped with him holding her only weapon. How he'd seemed so genuine.

He was good.

A master among manipulators...and she'd been so stupid.

She swallowed hard and once she trusted herself to open her mouth without vomiting, she said shakily, "Ms. Fa, your client is guilty."

"Sometimes innocent people are found guilty," Mulan insisted.

"Not this time," Regina shook her head.

"How could you possibly know that?" the other woman argued, "Have you read the trial transcripts? Seen all the evidence, even that not discussed in court? The local news and your inmate file doesn't tell the whole story!"

"Do you know the whole story?" she asked skeptically before muttering to herself, "Yeah, I'm sure he's convinced you that you do!"

"What are you talking about?"

"Tell me, Ms. Fa, did you and Locksley start sleeping together before or after he murdered his wife?"

"Excuse me?!"

"Did you know he was beating her?"

"Where did you get that idea?" Mulan asked incredulously, "Or, for that matter, the idea that we're sleeping together?!"

"It's pretty obvious," Regina scoffed.

"Is it? Well, in that case, I can only wonder if your gaydar is always so off?"

"What?" she blinked.

"I'm not sleeping with Robin," Mulan answered with an amused expression, "Or any man...ever!"

She had no words in response to that other than, "Oh."

"Look, all I'm asking you to do is spend a few hours reading, and if you still think my client is guilty we can forget...everything that happened today. I think that's a more than fair offer, don't you?"

Grudgingly, Regina nodded

 **TBC...**


	15. Chapter 14

Regina followed the other woman's silver Kia Optima to a strip mall about five miles away where they both parked in front of a non-descript office space with 'Law Office of Li and Fa' printed in frosted white letters above pictures of Mulan and a stern looking man with an extremely chiseled jaw.

Unlocking the door, Mulan led the former warden inside, removed her blazer, and tossed it onto a coat rack in the corner. The office contained two desks and several file cabinets that were overflowing with manilla envelopes.

Glancing around the chaos, Regina couldn't help but feel sorry for Ms. Fa's clientele. She'd certainly be nervous if her lawyer's office looked like this.

"Sorry for the mess," Mulan muttered, looking understandably self-conscious, "We're hoping to move to a bigger space soon, but my partner has been busy with a case with his family's law firm in Boston. He's a part-time junior associate there...long story."

Regina nodded understandingly, though breathed a sigh of relief when it appeared Mulan did not plan to tell that long story.

The lawyer motioned to a chair near a round table in the corner of the room as she dropped her handbag on her desk, "Have a seat. I'll go get the files."

With a sigh Regina shrugged out of her coat and hung it on the back of the chair before sitting down. Glancing around the office, she couldn't help but shiver. Even with the fluorescent lights overhead the space was dark and cave-like, and the rainy weather made it seem even colder.

She snapped out of her musings as Mulan returned carrying two banker's boxes which she set down on the table. Regina took the lid off the boxes while the other woman pulled up another chair. Both boxes were completely full.

"A lot of material," she commented.

"Yeah," Mulan nodded.

Clearing her throat, Regina straightened up, "Alright, so what are we starting with?"

* 0 * 0 * 0 * 0 * 0 * 0 *

As she finished the last page of the original trial transcript, Regina tossed it aside and rubbed her eyes.

"Okay, well. From what I see here it seems like the case was pretty open and shut," she commented warily, "I mean I saw where you tried to introduce reasonable doubt, but there was forensic evidence placing Locksley at the scene."

"The blood on the kitchen towel,' Mulan acknowledged, "It was a mixed sample that matched to both Robin and Marian."

"And, according to the prosecution, your client had an injury on his hand."

"Yes, but Robin told me about that. He got the cut on his hand a few days before Marian died, and used the towel to stop the bleeding. The crime lab claimed that his blood on the towel was the same age as Marian's. From what expert I consulted with said the science on that is a little iffy," she explained, "It was what we based our motion for a new trial on."

"The judge didn't think it was enough, though?" Regina guessed.

"No," Mulan sighed, "I thought we had a chance since it was the most damning piece of evidence at trial. However...you know how that went."

"Well," she shrugged, "It probably did make sense to try. From what I can see the rest of the DAs case was circumstantial. Without the blood and the cut on his hand, the only other thing they based their case on was the fact that he had no albi. He say anything about that?"

"Playing poker at a friend's house," Mulan dug through the second box, "I have sworn affidavits from John Little, that's who hosted the party, and his wife stating that Robin was at their place until 9PM. They live out in the country, over hour drive from Misthaven. A neighbor found Marian's body at 10:30PM when she noticed the door was open while walking her dog, and came inside the house to check on the Locksleys. Robin showed up about 20 minutes later when the police were already on the scene."

"Did you ask him what took so long to get home?"

The other woman shrugged, "Just that he was being careful because he'd had a few beers at John's house, and, at the time, didn't have any reason to be in a hurry."

"But no one saw him? He didn't stop at a gas station or anywhere with a security camera?"

"No."

Regina sighed, "What about Marian's blood on the towel? Locksley cuts his hand a few days before his wife is murdered, and her blood happens to end up on the exact same towel he used? That's kind of a big co-incidence isn't it?"

Mulan pulled a folder out of the box and slid it across the table, "Not really."

When she flipped it open, she found that it contained copies of the crime scene photos. Marian Locksley's body was laying in the middle of a tiled floor, although more blood than tile was visible. Regina swallowed hard as she flipped through the photos, finally noting that behind her was a white washer and dryer, a full laundry basket, and a few items on the floor. All of which contained police markers outlining spatters of blood.

"She was killed in the laundry room?"

"Yes," Mulan nodded solemnly.

"There's a lot of blood," she acknowledged, "Almost everywhere, in fact. The towel was in the laundry room waiting to be washed...it's plausible. What did they present as motive?"

"Jealousy," Mulan answered.

Regina's head snapped up in surprise, "Marian was having an affair?"

"No," the other woman shook her head, "A different kind of jealousy."

Regina looked at her questioningly.

"Their marriage was how Robin gained permanent residency," Mulan explained, "Also their mortgage, the lease on The Longbow, their business loan...they were all in Marian's name because she was an American citizen, had a credit history here, etc. Basically, everything in their life was under her control, and the DA argued that he resented that, felt emasculated, and, with her gone, he'd inherit all her assets and not have to rely on her any more."

"Wait," Regina stopped her, "They charged him with second degree murder, though. If they were thinking he killed her for her money, why not charge first degree?"

"They couldn't prove it," Mulan answered, "They had absolutely no evidence of premeditation. No gun purchases, no taking out a new life insurance policy shortly before her death, no suspicious search history on their computer, and, since the autopsy report showed signs of sexual assault, they realized they'd have a better chance arguing it was a crime of passion. That there was some kind of argument over him staying out late or whatever, so he snaps and takes out his anger by raping and killing her."

"So they had marriage problems?"

"Not that anyone knew of."

Regina crossed her arms, "I've heard otherwise."

"Yeah, you said that before. Where did you hear that?"

"The sheriff of Misthaven is an acquaintance of mine," she said noncommittally, "He mentioned something about it."

Mulan looked skeptical, "Well I don't know where he got that information. They were always happy."

"So you did know the Locksley's before Marian's death?"

Mulan sighed, "Yes, I did. I worked at The Longbow for a few years before I decided to take the bar in Maine and start my practice."

"Sometimes you don't know what's going on behind closed doors. Even if your bosses seemed like a happy couple-"

"They weren't just my bosses!" Mulan cut her off, sighing heavily and sitting up in her chair, "That photo album you were going through at the storage locker. If you'd kept going you'd have seen a lot of pictures of me."

Regina sensed there was more to the story and waited for the other woman to go on.

"We were close friends."

"Sometimes you don't even know your friends as well as you think."

"Look I...okay here's the thing. I was raised in a traditional household. I was the only child...I did everything I was supposed to as a good Chinese daughter. I got good grades, got into Georgetown University, went to law school...I'd been ROTC since my freshman year, but deferred deployment while I was a student. After I finished law school, however, I was activated and ended up doing two tours of duty in Afghanistan. When I came back I was a mess," Mulan looked away not meeting Regina's eyes.

After a long pause sent went on, "My parents accepted a lot about me, but telling them I had PTSD...I couldn't do it, so I ended up leaving home to spare them the shame of having a daughter who had a law degree, but couldn't even function enough to get a job. I spent some time couch surfing with my army buddies, and later hooked up with a girl from Maine. Our relationship was a disaster, but it was how I ended up moving to Misthaven, and, since I was broke, getting a job waiting tables at The Longbow."

"My ex and I split several months after we should have, but by that time I was really close to Robin and Marian and John. With their help I got treatment for PTSD, and decided to get back into law," Mulan looked up, meeting her eyes, "These people were my family. They probably saved my life. I don't know what the sheriff has said, but I don't believe for a second it's true! Marian was like a sister to me, so even if I weren't sure that Robin would never do something like that, if her own husband had been hurting her I'd have known! She was happy...really happy."

"But the DA was convinced her husband resented her enough to kill her?"

The younger woman sighed and said, "Well I guess the common wisdom is that there's always motive to kill your spouse."

Regina quirked the side of her mouth at both the blunt statement, and the truth in it.

"And officially the burden of proof may be on the prosecution, but realistically...the jury believed the prosecution's explanation of events," Mulan said warily, "So now we're in appeals. To vacate a sentence or be granted a new trial, you need evidence, and alternative explanations, or lack of explanations, are not evidence."

Glancing away, Regina picked up the next file in the box. As she began reading through she noted it was the autopsy report complete with detailed descriptions and pictures of the injuries Marian sustained. She'd been brutalized. The report detailed injuries consistent with having been kicked repeatedly in the stomach and ribs, having been forcibly penetrated, and ultimately dying from repeated stab wounds from a kitchen blade. The descriptions of the injuries, as well as the memory that less than two weeks ago she'd let herself be kissed by the man who possibly influenced them, had Regina's stomach churning. She was just about to close the file, tell Mulan that she couldn't make any comment on this case, and then flee the office when one detail caught her attention. Looking more closely, she let out a puzzled hum.

"What?" Mulan asked.

"Um...the rape kit that the coroner performed," she said, "The report says that no DNA or evidence of semen was recovered, but they did find condom lubricant."

"Yes…" the lawyer prompted, an excited glint appearing in her eye.

"Did they match it to a brand?"

"They did," Mulan nodded, "One sold in pretty much every store."

"Well were there any in the house at the time Marian died?" Regina asked.

"No," the other woman shook her head, sitting back in her chair with a smug air about her, "Nor was there any evidence from credit card statements that Robin nor Marian bought that brand, or any brand of condom, with in the two years prior to her death."

"So the police believed that Locksley snapped and, in a fit of rage, raped and stabbed his wife…but used a condom?"

"That is what the DA argued."

"Okay…" Regina commented, pausing for a long moment before continuing, "...I'm not sure I should be saying this but…"

She trailed off again, so Mulan finished it for her, "Why would a married man use a condom to rape his own wife? Yeah, I may be a lesbian, but that struck me as odd too!"

"Especially if this was supposed be a spur of the moment crime."

"Very good point," Mulan acknowledged.

"How do they explain that?"

"They don't have to. They had enough other evidence to get a jury to convict, and, for appeals…"

"A lack of explanation isn't evidence," Regina repeated back her earlier statement.

The other woman nodded.

The two sat silently for a moment before Regina happened to glance at her watch. Seeing the time startled her into rising from her seat, "Oh my God, it's nearly 3 o'clock! My son will be getting home from school in half an hour!"

"Will you come back tomorrow?"

"And do what?" Regina asked.

"Help me review this case with fresh eyes? Look for evidence that proves Robin's innocent."

The older woman gaped at her, "Why? Ms. Fa, I'm not a lawyer. I can't help you build an appeal!"

"I'm not asking if you think there's enough evidence to appeal. I'm asking if you still think Robin is guilty?"

"I...I don't know! I can't possibly know for certain! Yes, there are some things in this case are odd, but none of them prove that he's innocent!" Regina shook her head, rising from her chair, "And I can't be doing this! I have a child to take care of. I need to be using my time to find a job so that I can support him, not...whatever this was today."

"A job?" Mulan repeated, "...I can pay you!"

She stopped with her hand on the front door, "As what?"

"An investigator," she offered, desperately, "I don't have a lot in the budget, but...I'll make it work. I swear!"

She hesitated.

"Ms. Mills, please," Mulan stepped toward her, all vestiges of the cold, hard-nosed lawyer now gone, "I think this matters to you more than you want to let on, and, as I said before, I won't ask why but...just please help me. This is my family."

Seeing the desperation on her face made Regina shift uncomfortably. Finally, she said, "I'll think about it."

With that she pushed open the door and rushed through the drizzly rain to her car.

 **TBC...**

 **A/N: Yeah, sorry for another mostly exposition chapter. Thank you to everyone for sticking with this fic, and for all your lovely reviews!**


	16. Chapter 15

Regina picked listlessly at her helping of Mary-Margaret's tuna noodle casserole. The day after her little misadventure at the storage facility, the Nolans had dropped by to provide her and Henry with dinner. It was a habit they apparently were going to make a weekly thing, presumably until she found another job.

Glancing across the table she was pleased, at least, to note that Henry had already cleaned his plate. Apparently his appetite had come back, though hers wasn't doing her any favors.

She pretended not to notice as David and Mary-Margaret glanced over at her, and then worriedly at each other.

Clearing his throat, David reached across the table and asked, "Everyone finished eating?"

Regina nodded quietly.

"Yep!" Henry answered.

"Why don't you rinse your plate then?" Regina prompted.

"We've got it," Mary-Margaret chimed in, picking up Henry's plate and stacking it on top of hers as David picked up Regina's.

"No!" she argued, "Mary-Margaret-"

"David and I are treating you tonight," the younger woman cut her off.

"You provided dinner!"

"Yes, and now we'll clear the table while you and Henry go relax."

Henry didn't need to be told twice, his chair scraping on the kitchen floor as he pulled away from the kitchen table and hurried to the livingroom to start up the tv.

Regina sighed in annoyance as the couple made their way over to the sink and began rinsing the dishes.

"I'm at least going to make coffee!" she argued.

Grinning Mary-Margaret said, "That sounds lovely, thank you."

Deciding not to dwell on the relentlessly cheerful couple, Regina stood to retrieve the can of coffee from the freezer and start a pot brewing.

The percolator began gurgling just as David and Mary-Margaret finished stacking the clean dishes in the drying rack.

After drying her hands on a dishtowel, Mary-Margaret announced she was going to go see what Henry had found to watch on TV.

Leaning over the counter on her elbow, Regina stared blankly at the slowly filling coffee carafe. David appeared by her side, interrupting her mindless observations.

Turning to him, she raised a questioning eyebrow.

"So I never really got the chance to tell you because...things happened, but you remember that other thing you asked me to look into for you?"

"Other thing?"

"Whether there was any connection between Robin Locksley and Callum Gold," he reminded her.

"Oh," she nodded, "Right...I'd forgotten."

"Understandably," he answered, "Though from what I found the answer is 'no' anyway."

"None at all?" she asked, genuinely surprised as she remembered Gold's cryptic comments. It had seemed at the time, as well as know, that he knew more about Locksley than he was letting on, "They're both British nationals."

"Yeah," David nodded, "But Gold moved to the states in the 70s. A year before Locksley was born."

"What about family still in the UK?"

The blond man shook his head, "Unlikely. Gold's originally from Glasgow. Locksley the London metro area."

She sighed, "The both live in Misthaven, though, and Gold is really the only organized crime presence in this area! What about through Locksley's business? Help with liquor licenses...anything like that?"

"Not that I found. There was an extensive investigation of the Locksley's business during the investigation into Marian's murder. From what they found it was all above board."

With a sigh, she looked back at the coffeemaker as it automatically shut off, indicating it was done brewing.

"Any particular reason you suspected that?" David asked.

Taking three mugs down from the cabinet, she set to serving the coffee and answered, "I don't think it matters now."

"You don't think Locksley had something to do with planning the riot?"

"No...definitely not!" she stated with a mirthless laugh, "Besides, I thought they already found who it was? Rice and Mendell helping Gold and his son? Are they pressing charges against them yet, by the way?"

"Well not any time soon," David answered.

Regina looked at him questioningly.

"Cassidy, Gold's son, is still denying knowing anything about the riot," David explained, "And, of course, Gold isn't talking."

"Of course," she repeated as she finished stirring cream and sugar into the coffees. After a moment's thought she asked as she passed David his coffee, "What about the murders?"

"Murders?"

"The inmates Gold stabbed."

"Ah. I haven't heard much about that, but I'm pretty sure they do plan to press charges."

"Have they talked to Belle?"

David sipped his coffee and looked at her questioningly, "I don't know. Why?"

"I mentioned in my statement to the state police that it was my impression that Gold killed those men because they were the ones who attacked Belle during the riot."

He glanced at her in surprise as the two of them stepped over the threshold into the livingroom, "Really?"

Regina nodded, taking a seat on the couch. David handed Mary-Margaret her coffee, earning himself a warm smile before Mary-Margaret turned her attention back to the episode of Wheel of Fortune she and Henry were engrossed in, and David sat next to her on the couch.

"Vigilante justice is illegal," he stated simply.

"It is," she agreed.

"However, should Gold go to trial, or, if, as his lawyer will probably advise, he takes some kind of plea deal...knowing his victims brutalized a young nurse would be relevant information to a jury or a judge during sentencing," David said.

"Yeah," Regina said quietly, taking a deep sip of her coffee, "…maybe...I don't know. Never thought I'd be trying to help Gold!"

"Why are you?"

"I have no idea, to be honest!"

"Maybe because you think it's the right thing?" David suggested.

She shrugged, "The right thing? As you said, even if Belle does identify those men as the ones who raped her, it doesn't give Gold the right to kill them."

"No," David agreed, "But most would understand a little better."

"That doesn't change the law."

He didn't answer at first, "I'm a cop. I'm sworn to uphold the law no matter what-"

Regina opened her mouth to speak, but before she did so David continued, "Personally, though...I always try to do what I know in my heart is the right thing."

"How can you be sure of what that is, though?" she asked.

David chuckled, "That is always the question, isn't it?"

She didn't bother answering that.

* 0 * 0 * 0 * 0 * 0 * 0 *

Later that night Regina found herself staring at the shadows on the ceiling of her bedroom, her normally comfortable mattress feeling awkward and impossible to sleep on.

Blinking, she let out a breath and groped around on the nightstand for her phone. Tapping the screen to activate it, the clock on the screen told her it was 2:35 AM.

Letting out an exasperated sigh, she tossed back the covers and got up from her bed. Plodding over to the bathroom, she flipped the light on. Squinting against the brightness, she turned the nozzle to start up the faucet and splash cold water on her face. Shutting off the water, she picked up a hand towel and blotted her face dry.

As she set down the towel, she looked up and started into her reflection in the mirror. A pale woman with tired eyes stared back at her.

Glancing away, Regina let her eyes slide shut.

Behind them visions of blood splattered laundry rooms, and pages of autopsy reports detailing a horrific death that only a monstrously violent person could inflict on someone they love.

Pursing her lips, she tried to pretend she wasn't also remembering feeling Robin Locksley's lips on hers.

She groaned as she leaned heavily against the sink. This was ridiculous. It had been such a fleeting thing, and it wasn't as if she hadn't kissed plenty of men before. She was pretty sure even her first kiss in middle school lasted longer, and, more importantly, wasn't with a possible rapist!

If she were finally honest with herself, though, in spite of doing absolutely everything she could not to...she hadn't been able to stop thinking about it.

Tearing her gaze away from her town reflection, Regina gently dried her face on a hand towel, hung it back on the rack, and flipped the light off on her way out of the bathroom.

Wearily, she slid back under the fluffy comforter on her bed and tried to sink into the soft mattress.

Watching the ceiling blankly she began considering, again, the eye-crossing amount of evidence she'd poured through at Mulan Fa's office the day before, and wondering what it all meant...if it meant anything.

The young lawyer clearly believed in Locksley's innocence, but the problem was she wasn't just his lawyer. They had a personal relationship. She herself had described him as family. She could have fallen into the trap of seeing things that aren't really there, and was tempting Regina into doing the same.

A seemingly happy marriage, an unprovable story about the timing of a cut on his hand, and some condom lubricant?

She wasn't sure she believed that really made a believable case that a convicted murder was actually innocent...of course, she also wasn't sure it proved a man was actually guilty.

* 0 * 0 * 0 * 0 * 0 * 0 *

The next morning was surprisingly warm and sunny for Maine. Regina could feel her underarms moistening under her blazer, however, she was glad to be back in it.

She'd chosen one of her regular black pantsuits and blouses, and one of her taller pairs of heels. She wasn't going to the prison, but she wanted to feel put together...in control.

Shoving the dingy glass door open Regina stepped inside the office, and let it slam heavily shut behind her.

From behind her desk, Mulan Fa looked up at her in surprise.

Her mouth opened to speak, but Regina jumped in before she had the chance to get in even one word, "I'll take the job, but I have conditions."

Mulan raised her eyebrows, and slowly set her pen down with a somewhat amused expression, "Which are?"

"I know your job is to create any defense possible for Locksley, but can't help you do that," Regina said, "You asked me to be an investigator. That I can do. I can help you investigate Marian Locksley's murder, but if the evidence points to Robin's guilt…my role here cannot be just to get him out of prison. It can only be to find the truth."

Considering it for a second Mulan answered, "Fair enough. What else?"

"You be completely honest with me."

"I already have been, but what's your question?"

"You really never suspected there was any trouble between Robin and Marian?"

Mulan pursed her lips, "They had arguments. The kind all couples do. That time you get in a fight with your partner right before a party? My-ex and me it was most events, but for Robin and Marian I'd say the worst was probably right before John's wedding. They were both in the wedding party, and so was I. They tried to put on good faces, but they barely looked at each other the whole ceremony. However, if you're asking were there any signs that their marriage as in real trouble, or that Robin resented Marian enough to hurt her...or that their relationship was violent? The answer is unequivocally no!"

Regina sighed, not sure if she felt relieved or disappointed, but answered, "Okay."

Standing from her desk Mulan said, "Mind if I ask you a question now?"

Regina glanced back at her, nodding expectantly.

"What made you change your mind?" Mulan asked bluntly.

"I thought that's what you wanted?" Regina challenged, "Two days ago you practically begged me!"

"You're right, but you didn't answer the question," the younger woman pointed out, stepped closer to her, "Do you think Robin is innocent?"

Letting out a heavy breath, Regina answered, "I can't be sure."

"You're not sure?" Mulan asked, a disbelieving tone in her voice.

"No, I'm not," she responded, "I can't say I'm sure he's innocent, but I'm also not sure I believe he's guilty. That's the best I can give you."

"Then why are you here?"

Regina didn't answer causing Mulan to fold her arms across her chest crossly.

"I said on Monday I wouldn't ask this, but that was then...what were you doing in that storage locker? Or does this honestly policy not work both ways?"

"I told you, the key showed up in my things. Believe or don't, it is the truth!"

"Okay, fine," Mulan answered, "That isn't what I meant anyway. You don't look through someone's photo albums for no reason! You're trying to hide it, I suspect even from yourself, but I think you care about Robin and, if you expect me to trust you and for us to work together on your terms, I'd at least like to know why!"

After a long period of silence staring at the opposite wall Regina finally took as steeling breath and quietly answered, "He saved my life."

Mulan's eyebrows shot up.

"During the riot," she explained, "We ended up together for a while after the inmates got out of their cells, and when one of the prison gangs found us...he tried to protect me. He didn't have to, but he did."

Lifting her head high, a triumphant smirk made its way across the younger woman's lips, "You know, Ms. Mills, that's the first thing you've said so far that doesn't surprise me. That's who Robin really is, and that's what I'm trying to prove."

"Well for the sake of both our time, I hope you're right," Regina answered with a sigh, "So where do we start?

 **TBC...**

 **A/N: I'm very busy with real life right now so updates have been slower, but I figured everyone could use one after all the awful "dead is dead" crap from A &E who refuse to admit their mistake in killing Robin!**


	17. Chapter 16

Robin woke slowly to the sensation of a soft hand brushing across his face.

"This your idea of spending the weekend as a family?" Marian ribbed gently, but he felt her slide onto the couch next to him just the same.

"Hm," he hummed, moving his arm so she could tuck herself into his side, "I was at the bar late last night. Took us a while to get closed up after last call."

"I know," she answered as he blinked sleep from his eyes. As his vision cleared he watched Roland on the floor playing with his blocks. A smile tugged at his lips as he absently played with the ends of Marian's hair with one hand, his other intertwining with hers on his knee.

Even as he did so, however, part of him realized that this was wrong.

Roland wasn't a baby anymore. The dark hair sliding between his fingertips was too short. The hand holding his too light-skinned. She even felt smaller than he remembered.

But that wasn't right either...somehow.

"Robin?" Regina said looking up at him questioningly, "Are you alright?"

"Yeah."

"Are you sure?"

Raising her hands to his lips, he gently pressed a kiss against the top of her hand and looked deeply into her eyes as he answered, "Perfect...everything's perfect."

He felt his breath catch at the wide smile that stretched across her full red lips as she glanced away.

Clearing her throat softly, she glanced over where Roland was running around the room making vrooming noises with his toy dump truck. As if on cue, the boy changed course and took a flying leap into Robin's lap.

"Oof!" he grunted up on impact.

"Daddy, play with me!" his son demanded.

"We can play but you need to be careful, you're getting too big to be jumping all over Daddy," Robin chastised gently.

"I'm sorry," the four year old responded dutifully just before using Robin's stomach as a springboard to push himself off and go back to running around.

He held down a second pained groan, but only barely.

Biting her lip in amusement, Regina rubbed her hand across his abdomen sympathetically.

Grabbing her hand he kissed her knuckles a second time to watch her blush again, and she didn't disappoint. This time, however, he stopped her from glancing away by catching the edge of her chin between his thumb and forefinger.

Gently tilting her head up he leaned down capture her lips between his.

She let out a soft sigh as her mouth yielded to his, her lips falling open-

"Eww!" a small voice interrupted, "Daddy, stop it!"

They pulled apart laughing. Glancing to Roland, Robin said, "Sorry, Buddy."

Frowning, but seemingly convinced they had been properly chastised for their affectionate display, Roland let his attention drift back to whatever game his imagination had come up with.

Glancing at him with an indulgent smile, Regina shifted her body so that she could lay her head on his shoulder.

Her short hair brushed against his cheek, but as he tightened his grip around her he couldn't, for the life of him, imagine what possibly could have felt wrong about this…

 **BUZZZ**

As the loud siren announcing morning unlock sounded, Robin slung one arm over his eyes to block out the sight of concrete walls.

It only worked for a few minutes, though, before a hand roughly grabbed his leg.

"Rob. Let's go, mate!" Will urged.

With a discontented sigh, Robin slid down out of his bunk and put on his shoes.

"Another lovely day in the clink, eh?" Will joked, nuding Robin's side as their cell door slid open.

He smiled weakly in response, but couldn't muster too much enthusiasm. As he followed Will down to the mess hall for first meal, he noted that the younger man seemed to slowly be getting to be more like his old self. He was glad, at least, for that.

"So got any big plans for today?"

Robin shrugged as he held out his tray for the cafeteria worker to spoon a helping of hash browns onto.

"...okay then," Will answered, looking at him strangely.

The two sat down at a table after getting the rest of their food and began eating in silence.

Will nodded toward the catwalk, "What do you reckon to this new guy?"

Glancing over his shoulder, Robin saw that he was referring to the new warden who was walking past staring at a clipboard, and having some sort of conversation with CO Humbert.

He shrugged as he looked back at his tray and chewed a bite of his breakfast without really tasting it.

Will imitated his shrug, "What the does that mean? What's with you?"

"Nothing," he answered, "I just...what the hell am I supposed to say? I don't know this new guy, and, besides, what does it matter?"

Placing his piece of toast down on his tray Will scratched the edge of his temple with his thumb before saying, "Listen, Robin, mate...I hate to break it to you, but you haven't exactly been as subtle as you think."

"What are you on about?"

"You know what I'm on about," the younger man insisted, "Warden Mills. I know you had a thing for her."

"That's ridiculous," Robin grumbled.

"Come on," Will argued, "It's me you're talking to."

He didn't answer that.

"Look, you helped me while I was feeling sorry for myself after the riot so...I'm trying to do the same."

"Well, that's kind of you, but there's no need. I'm fine. I'm certainly not pining over a woman!"

"Oh rubbish!" the younger man scoffed, "We're in prison! Every man in here is pining for a woman...I mean, all the ones that liked them to begin with, at least."

Getting annoyed, Robin scowled across the table, "I kind of have bigger things to worry about in case you've forgotten! You may not have anything better to do than fantasize about pretty girls, but some of us are adults with actual problems!"

With that, Robin rose from his seat, dumped the contents of his tray into the nearest trashcan, and started down the corridor toward the prison library.

Early in the morning it was almost vacant except for the CO on duty at the door. He gave Robin a sideways glance, but, thankfully, didn't seem interested in making an issue of his presence.

With a sigh, he stuffed his hands into his pockets and made his way through the bookshelves trying to find relatively out of sight area. Privacy was at a premium in prison, though, and the metal shelves were designed to provide open views.

Stopping in an area of well stocked books, he ran one hand through his hair and leaned against the middle shelf in front of him.

Sliding his eyes shut, he let himself acknowledge the guilt he was feeling. Not just for snapping at his friend, but for the dream he'd woken up from this morning.

It had been a long time since he'd dreamed about Marian, and he'd been glad for it. For nearly a year after she died he'd dreamed of her almost every night. Sometimes at night he'd hear her screaming, but found himself frozen and unable to do anything even as she begged him to help her.

As bad as those dreams were, worse were the ones where he dreamed that her death was actually just a nightmare...except he'd wake up back into that same nightmare.

Though since the day the verdict at his trial was read, he hadn't had any dreams of her.

At first it was because he was simply numb. Unable to feel anything. During the time he was given to get his affairs in order, see Roland one last time, and then transferred to Coastal Correctional for the duration of his sentence...the rest of his life, he'd been just going through the motions. Doing what he had to because there was no other choice.

Robin had never been one to give into despair. He firmly believed that there was always hope. Even when he was arrested, and it became clear they were going to charge him for Marian's murder, he hadn't lost it. As naive as it seemed looking back, he'd truly believed that, because he hadn't done anything wrong, there was no way he'd be convicted.

After that didn't happen, though he'd felt more lost than he ever had.

The first few months of prison were a shock to the senses that he preferred to think of as little as possible.

It was difficult to remember precisely when Warden Mills started invading his dreams instead. Days, months, even years tended to blend together in this place.

As much as he wanted to think he hadn't noticed her right away, part of him knew that wasn't true. When he first came to the prison and was processed, she'd brought him into her office. Apparently it was something she did with most new inmates. Give them the 'ground rules' talk.

Although he'd been told the warden was a woman, he'd still been surprised when he was walked into her office and found himself standing in front of someone who looked more like they belonged on a magazine cover than running a prison. It had been such a surreal moment he'd almost burst into ridiculous laughter.

He was sure the attraction to her probably started from overhearing other inmates talking about her. Among the prison population there had always been no shortage of whispered appreciation for her body, or braggadocious accounts of what they'd do to her given the chance.

Of course, after that it came to the point where he'd intentionally block it out when other inmates talked about their fantasies because hearing those type of guys saying that filth about her made him want to start throwing punches.

The occasional erotic dreams about her...he didn't know exactly when those started, and, while he wasn't exactly thrilled they were happening, they did so infrequently enough that he could chalk it up to being a normal, red-blooded male who'd been locked up in prison for several years now.

This was going into year four, in fact.

The realization of that made him swallow against a painful lump in his throat. Thinking of how long he'd been locked up was always hard because it made him think of how much of Roland's life he'd missed. This time, however, he realized that it also meant that it had been nearly five years since Marian's death.

Five years and he still had no idea who killed her.

Five years and what was he doing? Worrying about his efforts to get his conviction overturned. Worrying about whether he'd ever see Roland again, and, if so, if his son would even know him. He was worried about that when, for certain, Roland would never know his mother.

And now he was having dreams with another woman literally in her place.

His self-berating musings were interrupted by the CO appearing at the end of the shelf and barking, "Inmate! Either pick a book or get out of here. Group therapy is on Tuesday, so until then I suggest you stop by the infirmary for a tampon and go have your little cry in your cell!"

Glaring, Robin pushed himself off the shelf and brushed past the annoying man.

Making his way out of the library, he stalked down the corridor back toward his cell. When he got there he wasn't sure if he was disappointed or relieved to find Will there sitting at the small table in the corner over some kind of crossword puzzle.

With a sigh he entered the cell, and sat down on Will's bunk.

"Sorry," he mutter.

Will looked back at him for a moment, shrugged, and said, "S'alright."

Robin let out a relieved breath before the younger man went on, "Though I would like to know what's got your knickers in a twist?"

He sighed, rising to his feet and pacing across the length of the cell a couple times before answering defeatedly, "You were right."

"Eh?"

"You were right," Robin repeated, "About what you said earlier."

Setting down his pencil, Will turned his chair to face him and asked, "You miss her?"

Yes. The answer jumped into his mind before he had a chance to think better of it, but instead he simply answered, "I don't know. It wouldn't really make much difference if she were still here."

The younger man nodded understandingly.

Leaning his hands against the top bunk, part of him couldn't help but wonder what exactly would happen if she came back. Especially since this last time he'd seen her they'd kissed, or, rather, he'd kissed her. She'd only responded a little, but a part of him still couldn't help but wonder what that meant...and it was a part of him that he hated at the moment because pretty soon it was going to be five years since Marian died, and how long had it been since he'd really thought of her? Of who killed her. No, instead he'd just been thinking about himself and how beguiled he was by his former jailer!

"To tell you the truth it isn't about her," Robin quickly changed the subject, "It's about my wife."

Will's eyebrows rose in surprise, but he waited for the older man to go on.

"Whoever…" he had to take a breath before saying the words out loud, "...whoever killed her is still out there, and somehow I've forgotten that!"

"You've forgotten?" Will asked skeptically.

"Yes! I haven't been thinking of trying to get justice of her, I've just been trying to get justice for myself, and….well you know," he let the sentence drop off knowing that he couldn't say any specifics out loud. Even with her no longer working at the prison it'd be too dangerous for Regina if someone overheard him say what had happened. Although, even without saying it he could feel her lips on his all over again.

"Listen, Rob," Will said, "I don't know where you're getting all that. You mention her all the time."

He opened his mouth to argue, but Will held up one hand to stop him from interrupting, "And, I didn't know your wife, but...from what you've told me of her I'd think she would want you go on, ya know? She doesn't strike me as the type of woman who'd want you to spend the rest of your life beating yourself up over what happened to her."

Robin shrugged, ignoring the part of him that knew that was exactly the type of person Marian was, "Well it isn't going to matter anyway."

"What are you talking about?"

"Even if Marian would want me to move on, it's not exactly going to be in the cards," he explained gesturing to the walls around them.

Will quirked his lips, but answered, "You never know."

With a bitter laugh, Robin quirked his lips back, silently telling his cellmate that he appreciated him at least trying.


	18. Chapter 17

Staring out her car window, Regina took in the house. It was beige with a white front porch that was framed by blooming hydrangeas. Before she could think better of it, she wondered if the new owners had planted them or if it had been Marian Locksley...or maybe Robin. No need to make sexist assumptions.

Rolling her eyes, she shook off that thought. She wasn't here to speculate about Robin Locksley's former life, she had a job to do.

She turned her attention to the house next to the non-descript beige one. This one was much more noticeable than the others on the street. The siding was painted a deep red color with black trim, surrounded by a dark picket fence. Pushing her car door open, Regina got out and went over to unlock the latch on the fence.

Her heels clicked as she walked up the stone path to the door. Between the fence and the door was a small English-style garden that contained beautiful white flowers and was littered with gargoyle statues. Actual gargoyles!

Keeping with the oddness of the house's decor, when she stepped onto the porch she was greeted by a large brass door knocker in the shape of snarling wolf head.

Frowning, Regina grabbed the wolf by the snout and thumped it down twice.

Somewhat predictably, a series of barking howls began sounding from inside. After a few moments, the door swung open and a young woman with dark hair looked up at her as she held large Alaskan malamute in place by the collar.

"Can I help you?" she asked.

"Ah...yes, my name is Regina Mills, I'm looking for-"

"What?" the girl asked.

"Grimm!" a woman hollard from further inside the house, "Quiet!"

Glancing back at the sound, the dog almost immediately quit barking, sitting down and licking its lips in a show of barely contained energy.

From inside the house, an old woman in a cardigan with a white bun stepped up to the door.

Glancing at Regina from over her wire-rimmed glasses, she asked brashly, "Yes?"

"My name is Regina Mills," she explained again, "I'm an investigator for Li & Fa. I was looking for Constance Lucas."

"That's me. What's this about?"

"I was hoping to ask you about the statement you made in reference to the murder of your neighbor, Marian Locksley?"

The older woman patted the dog on the head and answered, "That was almost five years ago. What do you want to know about it?"

"Well, I understand you discovered Mrs. Locksley's body?" Regina asked.

Looking at her Mrs. Lucas asked, "Who did you say you work for again?"

"Li & Fa, it's a law firm here in Misthaven."

The two women regarded her for a minute before the younger spoke, "I thought that case was closed? The trial was all over the news."

Regina cleared her throat in discomfort as she answered, "Yes, well, Mr. Locksley is a client of my employer. The firm is simply looking into whether there may be a case for an appeal."

The two women glanced at each other before the older one pursed her lips and turned away from the door, "Come in if you want. Ruby, can you take Grimm out?"

"Sure, Granny," the younger woman answered.

As Ruby Lucas lead the dog away, presumably toward the back door, Regina slowly entered the house and followed Constance Lucas into the kitchen. The inside of the house was as oddly macabre as the outside, with a grey forest themed wallpaper and cast iron cookware hanging on the kitchen walls in a way that looked wholesome but felt more like a warning.

"You drink coffee?" Mrs. Lucas asked.

"Um, yes, but you don't need to-" her protest fell flat, though as the grey-haired woman had already turned to the coffee pot and began filling it.

Regina watched quietly as Mrs. Lucas began a pot of coffee brewing. When the older woman finally turned back to her she smiled politely and offered her a 'thank you.'

"Sit," she instructed motioning to the kitchen table.

Sliding into a chair across from the woman, Regina took a breath and tried to bring attention back to the topic she'd come to discuss.

"Mrs. Lucas, I understand you discovered Marian Locksley's body?"

"I did," the older woman answered simply.

Taking a breath to remind herself to stay patient, Regina said, "I understand that must have been very hard-"

"I've seen a lot of bad things in my time, Dear," Mrs. Lucas answered in a somewhat impatient voice.

Normally, she would have doubted that statement from someone who looked like just a sweet little old lady, but her hard expression and tone of voice the notion seemed fitting.

"Can I ask what happened?"

Shrugging, she responded, "Grimm was restless that night. Ruby was out somewhere, who knows with kids! So I took him out for a walk and on my way back noticed that the door was wide open. People in this town don't lock their doors, but it was cold that night so leaving it open seemed strange. I went up to check and let them know it was open. Knocked on the door frame and no one answered. Grimm started barking, pulling at the leash, so after a few minutes I went inside and...well I told the police the rest."

"Mrs. Locksley was in the laundry room?" Regina prompted.

"Yeah," the other woman nodded, "Grimm pulled me as far as the kitchen. There were some dishes on the floor that looked like they'd been knocked over, and a trail of blood. I followed it around to the laundry room and...there she was, so ran home and called the sheriff."

Sliding a pen and notepad out of her purse, Regina asked, "You noticed the door was open as you were returning home?"

"Yes."

"Did you notice if it was open when you left?"

A flash of guilt crossed the older womans face as she responded, "No, and I've wondered every day since what would have happened if I'd looked."

"How long were you walking your dog?"

She shrugged, "I don't know. Half an hour maybe."

"And did you notice anything else suspicious that night? Someone in the neighborhood you didn't know?"

"The only other people I saw was a patrol car from the sheriff's department and some guy on a motorcycle."

"Who?"

"He was wearing a helmet. I didn't see who, but there's a few locals in town who go around making noise on those things."

Frowning, Regina wrote 'motorcycle' on her pad, and wondered briefly if speculating about a motorcycle gang in rural Maine was too outlandish.

"What about this patrol car? Was that normal?"

"Sure, they have someone patrol the neighborhoods. It's a small town, it's not like the have a lot of ground to cover."

The coffee pot chimed from the kitchen counter, signaling it had finished brewing. Mrs. Lucas glanced over before rising from the table and getting two mugs from a cabinet.

As she prepared the coffee, Regina pulled her notes on the case from her purse and looked back over the notes she'd written down from the police report. It estimated that Marian Locksley had been dead less than two hours when the police arrived. That meant that Mrs. Lucas had to have been home when the murder took place.

As the older woman returned and place a cup of coffee in front of her, Regina smiled and thanked her. After taking a polite sip, she cleared her throat and asked, "Mrs. Lucas, do you hear anything suspicious from your neighbor's house that night? A car arriving? Any sort of screams or yelling?"

"No, I didn't hear anything," she answered, "And it ain't because I'm deaf! I can practically hear you thinking that!"

Feeling herself flush, Regina shook her head but the other woman waved it off.

"Well, on that subject," she continued on, "Did you know your neighbors well?"

Setting down her cup, Mrs. Lucas answered, "Well enough. Marian was a local girl. I knew her parents, used to see her in my diner when she was younger. Then she married that Englishman. He always seemed like a really nice young man."

Regina chewed her lip for a minute. She's already covered the questions Mulan suggested. There was, however, another issue she wanted to find out more about, "How did they seem as a couple?"

"What do you mean?"

"Did they argue a lot?" she clarified, "Did you ever hear anything that made you think their household was...troubled?"

The older woman stared at her for a second before answering, "No, I can't say I did, and if I'd suspected anything like that you can believe I wouldn't be the type keep my trap shut and 'mind my own business.'"

Regina waited quietly for her to continue.

"To be frank, it came as a total surprise to me when I heard he did it. It was always hard to believe."

"So you don't think Mr. Locksley is guilty?" Regina asked.

The older woman shrugged, "The cops said he did it. From what I heard there was a lot of evidence. He was found guilty by a jury, so who the hell am I to say whether they were right or wrong?"

With that she rose from the table and collected the two half-drunk mugs of coffee. A clear signal that it was time for Regina to leave.

Gathering up her things, she rose from the table, "Thank you for your time, Mrs. Lucas."

Constance Lucas showed her to the door, shutting it firmly behind her. As she walked back down the stone pathway to her car Regina thought back through the information she'd gained in that conversation. It wasn't much. Mostly just the same information she'd read in the copy of Mrs. Lucas statement to the Misthaven Sheriff's Department the night of Marian's murder.

Tossing her notes into the passenger's seat, she started up her car and drove the short distance back to the strip mall where Mulan's office was located.

She quickly headed inside and shoved the door closed behind her. Mulan was sitting at her desk eating rice from a tupperware. As she saw Regina enter, she set down her chopsticks and chewed a large bite behind her hand, "Hey, how'd it go?"

Regina shrugged as she took of her coat and hung it up, "Waste of time mostly. The only information I got that wasn't already in the police report was something about hearing a motorcycle driving through the neighborhood earlier that night. She couldn't give a description of the driver, though."

Mulan frowned, "Nothing else?"

"No," Regina answered.

Just as the other woman started to speak the door clattered open behind them, and a tall, buff-looking Asian man in a suit walked in.

Immediately, Mulan sprang up from her chair, "Shang! You're back early. How's the case going?"

"Ah, pretty good," the man answered glancing at Regina questioningly, "It looks like we might be reaching a settlement soon, so I went ahead and came back up."

"Um, Regina this is Li Shang, my business partner. Shang, this is Regina Mills, she's...I hired her to help with the Locksley case."

The man's eyebrows nearly hit the ceiling, but he managed to quickly put on a good face as he shook Regina's hand, "Nice to meet you, Regina. Welcome to the firm."

She nodded graciously and accepted the handshake. The expression on his face betrayed that he wasn't exactly thrilled by her presence, but he was gracious and didn't try to squeeze her hand too hard as some sort of display of dominance.

After he let go of Regina's hand, he turned Mulan.

The young lawyer sighed and said, "Don't look at me like that!"

"Mulan-"

"I don't want to have this argument again, Shang!"

Approaching her desk, the man said calmly, "Look I know this guy was your friend, but we've looked over this case a million times. All of the evidence points to his guilt."

"He's right about that," Regina chimed in with a sigh, "Re-interviewing the one witness we have lead to basically nothing. The rest of the case is forensic evidence, and it also all indicates that he's guilty. Yeah, some of it might be a little strange but...well what crime ever makes perfect sense?"

Mulan sighed, ignoring Shang's pointed look, and turned to Regina, "There's one more witness we haven't talked to, but you're probably going to need me to come along for this one."

With that she lifted her blazer off the back of her chair and slung it over her shoulders.

"Who's that?" Regina asked.

"John and Trina Little. They're friends of ours. John used to be a bartender at The Longbow. They were the ones Robin was playing cards with the night Marian was killed."

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Author's Note: God this chapter was so boring! Sorry everyone, I promise things will pick up with then next update.


	19. Chapter 18

Regina's car bounced up and down as she followed Mulan's Kia up the narrow dirt road. As she looked out the window she could barely see any signs of a house through the thick underbrush.

Finally, the reached a clearing in the trees and began to drive up a gravelled driveway to a modest-sized farm house.

As Regina got out of her car, she glanced over and noticed Mulan standing next to her open car door, fiddling with the hem of her dress shirt.

Raising her eyebrows, Regina carefully walked over and asked, "Are you alright?"

"Yeah," the younger woman nodded, "Fine."

Her done didn't inspire much confidence, but she straightened up to her full height and began carefully walking up the gravel path to the door. With a sigh, Regina followed.

A few minutes after ringing the bell, the inner wooden door swung open revealing a small pixie-like woman with blond curls piled on top of her head. Almost immediately, Regina recognized her from the photo album she'd seen while in Robin Locksley's storage unit.

"Mulan!" she exclaimed with a warm smile, reaching forward to push the screen door open and step out on the porch, "What are you doing here?"

Mulan cleared her throat as the blond glanced at Regina curiously.

"I was hoping we could talk with you and John about Robin's appeal."

Regina's eyebrows shot up, but she chose not to comment just yet.

"Oh, yes, of course, come in," the woman said, motioning the two of them inside.

"Ah, this is a new investigator I hired to help with the case-"

"Yes," Regina interrupted, "I'm actually here to discuss the night Mrs. Locksley was murdered...the possibility of an appeal is still up in the air."

The young blond's smile slowly fell as she answered, "I see..."

After an uncomfortable moment of silence, she opened her mouth as if to speak but was interrupted by a man's voice and thudding steps from down the hall, "Trina! Have you seen my boots?"

Within a second, a large man, also recognizable from the photo album, appeared next to the blond.

He blinked in surprise at Mulan's presence and asked, "Mulan?"

"Mulan is here to discuss Robin's appeal...and the night Marian died," the blond, Trina, explained.

He was quiet for a minute before answering, "I see."

Mulan sighed heavily, but stepped toward the man and said, "This a new investigator I hired. Regina Mills-"

"I know who she is," the large man interrupted glancing toward Regina directly, "I've seen you on the news, Warden. I'm kind of surprised you're here, though."

"John, she's helping me," Mulan insisted.

"Uh huh," he murmured through his lips, staring at both women coldly before leaning over to whisper to Mulan, "Can I talk to you for a moment?"

The Asian woman sighed, but, after a minute, turned to Regina and said, "Would you mind?"

Her lips dropped open in surprise, wondering if they meant they actually wanted her to leave. Staring at the hard expressions on John and his wife's faces, though, left little doubt that they did.

Shrugging with her hands, Regina turned and walked back out the door, letting the screen clatter shut behind her.

As she stepped down the porch steps she heard echoes of raised voices coming from inside the house.

Sighing in exasperation, she shifted her purse strap on her shoulder and slowly made he way back down the walkway to the cars.

As she took a few deep breaths, trying to calm herself down, she shook hear head, wondering again what it was she was doing here. Mulan had made it seem like they might find something of great importance on this visit, but she couldn't imagine what and, so far, it was going even worse than she'd expected.

Digging around in her purse, she pulled out her notepad where she'd been jotting down information about the case. To the best of her memory the only information in John and Trina Little's statements was that Robin had played cards at their house the night of Marian's murder. Also that the time he left corroborated his statement, but it was still enough time to allow him to have gotten home and killed his wife.

Flipping through her notes, she glanced back over what she'd written down from this morning's visit to the former neighbor, Constance Lucas.

No other witnesses.

A mysterious man on a motorcycle...maybe heard before in the neighborhood.

Hadn't seen Robin leave or come home.

No signs of forced entry.

No screams heard.

Chewing the end of her pen, she circled the words "no screams" on her pad. In the back of her mind she recalled the gruesome crime scene photos. All the blood. The autopsy report detailing the horrific extent of her injuries.

How had no one heard her scream?

While lost in thought, she didn't overheard the sound of 'vroom vrooms' coming closer to her, nor notice the small figure racing out of the nearby trees, and in between the cars. Not noticing her presence until he slammed into her side, stunning himself as he was knocked backward and landed on his backside.

Alarmed, Regina whirled around staring in shock at the small boy, probably about four years old, staring up at her in surprise as she clutched a toy dump truck in his hand.

"Oh," she gasped, quickly flipping her notebook closed and shoving it back into her purse, "Sweetheart, are you alright?"

Blinking the boy nodded.

"Here, let me help you up," Regina said, crouching down to offer him her hand. She instinctively went into mothering mode as she pulled him up and began brushing the gravel off his jeans, "Are you sure you're alright?"

"Yeah, I'm okay," the boy answered, shaking his thick chocolate brown curls out of his eyes.

Regina smiled at his matter-of-fact tone, recalling how at his age Henry would usually not hesitate to run to her for comfort, even if he wasn't badly hurt.

"Well, I'm glad to hear that, but in the future you need to watch where you're going, okay?"

"Okay," he agreed, shifting his toy truck to under his arm as he looked up to her to study her thoughtfully, "Who are you?"

"Well..." she considered the answer for a moment, "My name's Regina. I'm...a friend of your parents."

"You are?" he asked, seeming genuinely surprised.

"...yes," she answered, slightly confused by his reaction.

His face slowly fell and he looked at the gravel under his feet with a downcast expression, making Regina wonder what she'd said wrong.

"You're lying," he said softly.

"Ah...what makes you say that?"

"Because my mama's in heaven, and my daddy's gone away," Regina's lips fell open as the young boy continue to speak, "That's what Uncle John and Aunt Trina said. He had to go away because the police said think he did something bad."

A sudden sick feeling surged through her as she looked into the boy's eyes, recalling, again, the pictures she'd gone through in the storage locker. Marian Locksley showing off her pregnant stomach. Pictures of an adorable baby whose face, and his mother's dark eyes, she could clearly see in the boy standing in front of her. Swallowing hard, she forced a smile, "You must be Roland?"

Inside she was kicking herself for not remembering having read in Robin Locksley's file that his son's legal guardian was John Little.

The boy, however, perked up at the question, "Yes, that's me. Roland Locksley."

"Well Roland," she continued, her mind racing for what to say, "I...I actually do know your daddy."

"You do?" he asked.

"Yes," she nodded, hesitating before going on. She wasn't sure exactly how much the Littles had told him about how prison worked. Finally, she settled on simply, "I saw him just a few weeks ago."

Glancing at the ground again, he said quietly, "Oh."

Allowing her maternal instincts to take over again, she leaned her head down to try to meet Roland's eyes and gently asked, "What's the matter?"

"I've never seen my daddy," he answered, again very matter-of-factly, "But Uncle John says he misses me."

Trying to ignore dryness in her throat and the uncomfortable feeling chruning her stomach, Regina nodded and answered, "Well...yes he does."

"He does?" Roland asked.

"Yes," she nodded, "He um...he's talks about you a lot."

She just narrowly avoided her voice cracking at the end of the sentence.

Slowly the young boy smiled, displaying deep dimples on his cheeks. The uncomfortable feeling in Regina's stomach ramped up as she could almost see those dimples below sparkling blue eyes instead of deep brown...on one of the rare occasions she'd actually seen the man smile.

"Are you going to see my daddy again?" he boy asked.

"I...I don't know."

"Well," he said, his tone returning again to the casual and somewhat distracted one of a child more interested in play than adult subjects, "I want to meet him. Everyone else has a daddy, and Uncle John is okay, but I don't like having mine gone so long."

Regina laughed, telling her self that the prickling she felt in her eyes was only from the pollen in the air, "Alright, I promise I'll do that."

He smiled again and said, "Okay, thanks Ms. Regina."

As he ran off around the other side of the house, Regina slowly rose from her crouched position.

The screen door abruptly clattered, drawing her attention up to the porch. She watched as Mulan stormed down the steps, and annoyed look on her face.

As she met Regina's eyes, the young woman abruptly stopped and asked, "Are you alright?"

"I'm...fine," Regina answered, drawing herself up in an attempt to regain her bearings after the unexpected encounter with Robin's son, "I think, perhaps, I should be asking you that?"

The lawyer sighed and answered, "Yeah, it's just...it's a long story. After what happened to Marian and then Robin, John doesn't tend to be very trusting especially since...I should have mentioned this before, but John and Trina have custody of Robin's son Roland-"

"Yes, I know," Regina answered, "I saw him a little earlier."

Mulan blinked in surprise, "You did?"

"Yes," she answered simply, "He seems like a lovely child."

"Yeah...he is," Mulan said, staring at Regina for a moment. She held her gaze, staring back steadily. Finally, the other woman broke the stare and went on, "Anyway, they're very protective of him."

"Well, I suppose that's understandable."

"Yeah," Mulan sighed, and Regina could practically see the guilt eminating off her. It had become obivous pretty quickly that the younger woman held herself responsible for the fact that her client was in prison, and was not interested in listening to any reasonsing about why it wasn't personally her fault...much less the suggestion that he might belong there.

"Did they have anything relevant to say?"

"What?"

"Did the Littles have anything to say about the case?" Regina repeated, "It seems to me, based on their statements to police, they probably woudln't know much about what happened at the Locksley residence that night."

"Yeah, probably not," after a moment of uncomfortable silence she went on, "You think I'm wasting our time?"

"I'm just not sure what re-interviewing these people as witnesses would add," Regina said diplomatically.

"They believe Robin's innocent," Mulan said, "You might not be willing to believe it still, but they do."

Regina was at a loss for how to respond to that.

"So what now? You want out?"

"I said I'd help you with this case until we found an answer or until we run out of things to investigate," Regina answered, feeling somewhat irritated at the accusation, "Have either of those happened?"

Mulan sighed, "We still have forensic evidence. The expert witness assessment of the blood at the scene...I could use fresh eyes on that."

"Well I can do that," Regina answered, glancing at her watch, "However, it may have to wait until tomorrow. My son will be getting home from school soon, and I'd like to be there to prepare him dinner."

"Right," Mulan nodded, "Yeah, sure. Of course, I'll...I'll see you tomorrow?"

"See you tomorrow," Regina answered dryly, turning toward her car and digging her keys from her purse.

As she cranked up the engine and prepared to turn back down the long dirt road they'd driven up, she glanced back in the rear view mirror, feeling conflicting sensations inside her as she noted both her frazzled employer still standing uncomfortably beside her car and the figure of a young boy running up toward the porch where the screen door opened and John Little's hulking form quickly ushered him inside.

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Regina stared out the window above the kitchen sink as she clutched a mug of tea in her hands. The absent minded sip she took was tasteless, and quickly forgotten as a pounding knock echoed from the front door.

The knob turned under her hand as she pulled the thick wooden door open. Staring at the person on the other side, she asked, "What are you doing here?"

Almost as soon as she'd asked the question the door was pushed fully open, causing her to stumble back.

"What are you doing?" she demanded a second time. The large figure advanced, boots thudding on the entry way as he made his way over the threshold into her house, "Get out!"

Paying no heed to her warnings, the person suddenly produced a large knife. The hallway lights glinted off the blade.

Feeling her heart leap into her throat Regina thought of where she had last put her service weapon, and found she couldn't recall.

"No..no," she held out her hands defensively as the man advanced on her, "Stop!"

As he continued to back up away from him she stumbled on a backwards step, losing her balance. At the missed step the man rushed forward knocking her fully backward.

Her head bounced against the kitchen tiles, their smooth coldness chilling her back through her sweater as she landed.

Immediately, the man's crushing weight pinned her down and pain radiated through her chest as he, without warning, plunged the knife into her flesh just below her collarbone.

Staring up at him she whispered, "Please-"

Before she could get another word out, though, he ripped the knife out and brought it back down sending searing pain through her stomach.

She cried out, shock racing through her mind that this was actually happening.

"No!" she threw up her hands as she brought the knife down again, causing it to hit the palm of her hand, the gray steel emerging from the other side, pinkish as blood dripped down landing around her neck.

The pain was unbearable, but Regina instinctively bit down on her lip against it, her mind immediately jumping to Henry upstairs.

Oh God, Henry! If he heard her screaming he might come down to investigate and if the man saw him…

Another searing pain turned her stomach inside out as the man plunged the knife deep into her, but she bit her lip harder, hard enough that the coppery taste of blood filled her mouth. Squeezing her eyes shut, she began to feel lightheaded, and, as another stabbing pain ripped through her, she hoped as hard as she could that after she passed out the man would do whatever it was he wanted and leave without looking upstairs.

Please, let him not find Henry…

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Regina jolted awake with a scream as she tumbled out of bed, landing face first into the carpet. Her heart was racing and her stomach tightly cramped. Her mouth was also filled with the taste of copper as it had been in her dream.

She reached up to her face and, in the gray darkness, saw blood on the tips of her fingers as she pulled her hand away.

Untangling herself from the covers, she stumbled to the bathroom and flipped the light on. In the mirror she could she her nose was bleeding, a trail falling down her lips and over her chin to where droplets had landed on her neckline.

Grabbing a tissue, she frantically wiped the drops away and dabbed at her nose.

She grimaced in disgust as she swallowed, feeling the thick, metallic blood at the back of her throat.

Glancing back in the mirror, she suddenly recalled the details of her dream and, letting the tissue fall from her hand, she quickly raced out of her bedroom and down the hall. Grabbing the knob on Henry's door, she threw it open.

The only part of him that was visible was a vague lump under the covers, save for one foot sticking off the side of the bed.

Letting out a deep sigh, Regina gently closed the door and leaned on the other side of it at she attempted to regain control of herself. As her breathing slowly returned to normal, she became aware that blood was still dripping from her nose.

Reaching up to wipe it away, she pushed herself off the door and shakily made her way down the stairs into the kitchen. The morning sun was just barely pouring through the curtains as she stepped in.

Pulling a paper towel off the rack, she used it to pinch her nose closed, and leaned against the counter for support.

After a few minutes, she felt somewhat in control of herself again. Cautiously, she dabbed at her nose with the paper towel and was relieved to find that the bleeding seemed to be stopping.

When she finally managed to wipe away the last few drops, she tossed the paper towel into the garbage can and washed her hands at the sink.

Shaking off the excess water, she shut off the tap and leaned hard against the rim of the sink. As she stared at the soapy water gurgling down the drain, she tried to make sense of her dream.

She'd never had one like it. Not in fifteen years working in criminal justice. She'd never been this affected by anything she'd heard or seen. Never been this affected by a case.

Raising her head up, she smirked at her reflection in the window ruefully, noting that she'd also never been this involved in case. She'd always maintained professional detachment, but, suffice to say, that was definitely long out the window in this instance.

With a sigh she backed away from the sink, walked a couple steps over to the kitchen table, and lowered herself into a chair.

What was she doing?

Even if she tried to tell herself that this simply an easy paying job, she knew that wasn't true.

She was personally invested. She'd taken this case for selfish reasons. She wanted to know if Robin Locksley was guilty...

Her stomach began to cramp again and she felt for a moment like she might be sick. Pushing herself up from the chair, she took a deep breath.

This had gotten out of hand. She needed to put a stop to it.

Resolving herself, Regina walked stiffly over to the stove and picked up the kettle. Taking it over to the sink, she began filling it.

She would make some coffee and call Mulan in a little while to tell her that she no longer wanted the job.

She couldn't do this anymore. They were getting nowhere and this was starting to affect her home life. She had bigger things to consider, bigger, even, than what it meant if she'd developed feelings for a rapist and a murder. She had Henry to think about, if he'd heard her wake up screaming from nightmares about a case she was investigating he'd be so upset-

The kettle clattered against the sink as it slipped from her hands.

Henry.

If he'd woken up.

Without even bothering to turn off the running water, Regina turned from the sink and rushed down the hall. She stopped briefly at the coat closet to grab her keys from her purse before throwing open the garage door. The concrete was freezing cold under her feet, but she barely noticed it as she opened the trunk of her car where she'd put a banker's box containing copies of important documents from Mulan's case file. She rifled through them frantically, until she found what she was looking for. The police report from the officer who responded the night of Marian Locksley's murder.

Quickly scanning the page, she found a the sentence that she'd been looking for: "Infant male, approx. 18 months, found in upstairs room."

Immediately she flashed back to her dream the deep fear that had gone through her as she was being attacked by a faceless man wielding a knife, not for her own life, but what would happen if Henry were to come upon it happening. It he'd woken up.

No one heard her screaming.

Beaten, stabbed, raped, and no one heard her screaming.

No one heard her screaming because she hadn't...because her son was upstairs and if he'd woken up…

Regina brought a shaky hand to her lips.

If he'd woken up her attacker would have found out he was there.

She was afraid her attacker would find out her son was in the house...something her husband would already know.

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Dun, dun, dun!

Hehe, thanks for sticking with this story. I hope to keep updating more often and finish soon.


	20. Chapter 19

**Author's Note: Tomorrow Robin will be back on OUAT and I am nothing but pessimistic about what A &E will do to his character and OutlawQueen as a couple. **

**I'm writing his update in the hope that, no matter what happens, this fandom will not immediately die out. We've been together through so much and I hope to finish a few more fics before I inevitably leave for good...sorry, but closure isn't good enough for me and I'm not sticking around to watch Regina with her next love interest. OutlawQueen will always be my OTP, period.**

 **Hope you enjoy and I promise to have an update soon.**

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Dead leaves blew across the parking lot, disturbed by the wind that was beginning to get cooler everyday as autumn faded into winter. Regina found no enjoyment of the peaceful scene, however, as she tapped her foot anxiously.

Her attention perked up when a large black Mercedes pulled into the lot and stopped in the spot marked "Reserved: County Coroner."

Jumping to her feet, she quickly made her way over as a surprisingly young-looking blond man got out of the car, "Dr. Frank Whale?"

He looked at her, "Yes, and you are?"

"My name is Regina Mills, I wondered if I could ask you a few questions about a case you worked on about four years ago?"

He sighed, closing his car door and walking past her toward the door to the coroner's office, "My office doesn't speak to the press."

"I'm not a reporter," Regina said, following after him, "I'm an investigator."

"Even so, I don't comment on active investigations. You'll have to wait until my report is public record."

"It already is," she bit out in annoyance, "this case was tried four years ago."

"Then you can request a copy-"

"I have one! I just wanted to ask you about some details."

"You said this case was four years ago and you expect me to remember it? I have work to do."

"It'll only take a minute, if you could just look at your report!"

Sighing in annoyance, he turned to her and unceremoniously grabbed the copy of his report from her hand. Glancing them over he nodded, "Yeah, I vaguely remember this case. From what I can see, though, all of my findings are right here on paper. It's not my responsibility if, as a layman, my findings are too complicated for you to understand."

Regina ignored the dig and clarified, "I had a specific question that isn't in the report."

"What would that be?"

"Would she have been able to scream?"

"Excuse me?" he asked.

"Would the victim have been able to scream? Was it physically possible for her?"

Studying her for a minute the blond smirked, "Oh I see. You aren't a reporter, but you are a writer, correct? Trying to break into the crime novel genre?"

Regina didn't answer, but he didn't seem to care to wait for an answer. Flipping through a few pages of the report, he finally looked up and said, "From what my report says there was no evidence of strangulation, no damage to the pharynx or larynx, nor any evidence that the victim was gagged before death. Hypothetically speaking, no, there was no medical reason the victim would have been unable to speak or scream or make any other noise."

With that he thrust the papers back into her hands and said, "Next time check Wikipedia or be prepared to pay for a consulting fee."

Regina sighed as the young doctor used a key to open the building door and stepped inside, shutting the it behind him without another word.

Making her way back over to her car, she slid into the driver's seat and took a few deep breaths to calm herself down. The county coroner had been an insufferable prick, but he'd answered the 'what if' question she'd been turning over in her mind.

Marian Locksley should have been able to call for help but didn't.

As she drew in breath after breath, she thought over the epiphany she'd had earlier that morning, that the reason she didn't scream might have been to prevent discovery of her son in the house, which would mean her attacker probably was not her husband.

Shaking her head, she braced her hands against the steering wheel and thought over alternative explanations. If she were chronically abused maybe she was used to not making any noise even while being beaten. Protecting her abuser like so many domestic violence victims do? Maybe he'd even raped her before.

Yet everyone in his life swore they'd never seen any signs of problems in their relationship.

Reaching behind her, she yanked the seatbelt over to clip it closed and started up her car.

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At the office, Mulan was taking a sip of her coffee and staring at something on the screen of her old iMac when Regina shoved open the door.

"Where are Marian's medical records?"

Lowering the cup from her lips, Mulan slowly asked, "Excuse me?"

"Marian Locksley's medical records. Where are they? I assume you have them?"

"Uh...no, in fact I don't. Why?"

"You took this case to trial and you don't have your victim's medical records?" she demanded.

"No," Mulan answered, "I don't because her medical history was not relevant to the case. What is this about?"

Tossing her hands up in exasperation, "Her medical records could prove or disprove whether or not she was being abused and you didn't even bother to look?!"

"There were no allegations of abuse during the trial!" Mulan shot back.

"Other than the murder, you mean?"

Working her jaw in clear annoyance, the younger woman answered, "I don't have copies of Marian's medical records in the office. The prosecution never brought up the possibility of prior abuse, and it certainly wasn't something I ever suspected. Now, when John and I were packing up Robin's house we did find some medical records in their home office, but it was among a lot of other stuff. We packed it all up in boxes just incase...well, just incase. It's in the storage locker along with all of their other belongings."

The two stared at each other quietly for a minute before Regina asked, "Are you going to give me the key?"

Letting out a breath, the lawyer walked opened her desk drawer and pulled out the rounded key that had originally led Regina to the storage locker. She handed it over, keeping a tight grip on it as she asked, "What are you thinking?"

"What do you mean?"

"You're acting almost manic today," Mulan said, "Clearly you have some kind of idea you're wanting to chase down. What is it?"

"I'm just doing what you asked me to and taking a deeper look at this case," Regina said automatically. She wasn't sure what was leading her lie, but something in her didn't quite feel comfortable with sharing what had gone through her mind this morning. Maybe because it was a completely unprovable theory that would just end up getting the young woman excited without actually helping their case in anyway. Maybe something else. Either way, though, anxiety coursed through her at the thought of sharing her speculation.

Finally giving up, Mulan let go of the key, "Okay, fine, whatever. You'll let me know if you find anything relevant?"

"Uh huh," Regina nodded, already on her way out the door.

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Seven and a half hours later, Regina squinted her eyes shut, pressing her fingers to the side of her nose.

She was sitting at the Locksley's kitchen table inside the storage locker surrounded by piles of paperwork that she'd spent all day sorting through. Eight years of tax returns, both business and personal. Documents on the purchase of their house. The lease on their bar. Robin's Permanent Residence application. Insurance claims and medical bills for both Robin, Marian, and their son Roland. The medical related documents painted a picture of a perfectly normal family. Check ups and vaccination records for Roland as early as two months. Hospital bills from his birth. Pre-natal visits. Before that bills from annual exams from Marian's ob/gyn. A few records of doctor visits for Robin Locksley, though nothing that suggested injuries he'd sustained while beating his wife.

After going through every piece of paperwork to be found, she'd taken to looking through the other boxes to see if she'd missed anything. In one box of photographs, she found a few ultrasound images from Marian's pregnancy. She was currently sorting through the rest of that box just incase it contained anything else relevant. X-rays...anything.

The problem, however, was that it wasn't an organized medical record but a hodge-podge of photos, some of which dated back to when both of the Locksley's were children and living in different countries.

Among the stacks of personal documents, she had created at least five piles of old snapshots. Ones that contained actual medical information, mostly Marians ultrasounds and a few old dental x-rays, ones of both of them or of Roland, ones of Marian, ones of Robin, and ones of people she had no clue about.

Lowering her hand, she glanced at her watch, noting that she'd need to get home to Henry soon. With a sigh, she lifted the box, which she'd gotten about halfway through, into her lap and dug out another handful of photos. As she distractedly sorted through them, tossing them into their respective piles she thought to herself that maybe it'd be better to try to get Marian's medical records from the local hospital. It'd take some legal maneuvering but if she managed to convince Mulan they would be useful to the case, it might give them a more complete picture of whether there was any evidence of abuse, particularly if Marian had been hiding it.

As she sorted through the piles, she tried to ignore the voice in the back of her mind telling her that the coroner's report hadn't noted at signs of injuries other than ones sustained close to death. Of course, given the man's disinterested and brusk attitude who knew how thorough he would have been in looking for old injuries when the cause of the death likely would have been pretty obvious without them.

She glanced at the last picture in the handful and prepared to toss it into one of the haphazard piles when something stopped her.

It was clearly a prom picture. Marian Locksley's teenage self smiled back at her between two white columns, in front of a tacky backdrop that was standard for prom photographers. She'd barely glanced at the tall boy with his arms wrapped around her waist, but something in the line of his nose caught her eye. Doing a double-take, she stared hard at the picture before her. His hair was much shorter then and he looked shockingly youthful compared to today, but he had the same nose and the same smarmy expression...

The sound of her phone's ringtone sounded abruptly, echoing off the concrete walls, and startling Regina almost out of her skin.

Dropping the photo onto the table, she quickly dug around in her purse. An unknown number with a Maine area code was calling. Frowning, she swiped to answer and cautiously answered, "Hello?"

"Regina Mills?" a deep voice at the other end asked.

"Yes...who is this?"

"I'm sorry, this is Warden Mills? Formerly of the Department of Corrections?"

"Yes," she answered suspiciously, repeating, "Who is this?"

"My apologies. My name is Arthur Pendragon, I'm with the Attorney General's office."

Looking up from the table, Regina glanced toward her phone in confusion, "What is this about?"

"Well, I have some questions for you regarding the recent riot at Coastal Correctional Facility. I was wondering if you might be able to take a trip down to Augusta?"


	21. Chapter 20

As the door to the visitor's area buzzed closed, CO Glass motioned him forward with his nightstick, "Area 3, Locksley, and they gave you this."

Robin took the yellow envelope. He was slightly confused, but didn't fancy looking at what was in it with Glass watching, so he simply nodded and made his way over to the visiting area.

He blinked in slight surprise when he saw Mulan sitting on the other side of the glass with the phone pressed to her ear. Taking a seat, he picked up the receiver on his side.

"Mulan, I didn't know you were coming today. Is everything alright?" he asked.

She nodded, looking slightly uncomfortable, and asked, "How are you doing? Are you feeling okay?"

"My injuries are healing just fine if that's what you mean," Robin answered, "What's going on?"

"Well..." she started, nodding at the envelope sitting in front of him, "...I brought you somethings."

Leaning the phone against his shoulder he flipped open the top and dug out the envelope's contents. There were several pictures of Roland. A few that were obviously new of him running around John's farm looking happy and carefree, and, to Robin's surprise, a few older ones of him as a baby. One of him in his high chair with spaghetti all over his face, one of the two of them sleeping on the couch, and one of Roland grinning mischievously as he held himself up on the edge of the couch, making attempts at walking. Photos he hadn't seen in years.

Swallowing hard, he looked up and guessed, "John sent these?"

"Um...he helped," Mulan answered, again looking uncomfortable, "There's also a note in there. John helped Roland write it for you."

Robin peered into the envelope and pulled out a folded piece of paper with the word 'Daddy' written in unsteady crayon on it.

"I think it's mostly pictures," the younger woman clarified.

Robin nodded, sliding the note and pictures back into the envelope. He didn't trust himself to read his son's first written message to him without losing control of his emotions, and this was too public a place to allow himself to do that.

Clearing his throat he looked at Mulan through the glass, "So, I'm guessing you didn't just come here to give me this?"

Shifting, Mulan glanced away to dig something out of her briefcase, "I have something else I wanted to show you. A photo."

"Alright," Robin answered, puzzled, and when she held said photo up to the glass, he felt even more so. The picture was one of Marian's old photos from school.

"What about it?"

"Do you recognize the man?"

"No."

"You don't?"

"Should I?"

Mulan bit her lip and answered, "It's Keith Nottingham, the sheriff."

Robin blinked in surprise and glanced back at the photo, slowly seeing the resemblance, "Oh, yeah, he looks...different."

The truth was the man had aged pretty badly compared to the fresh faced teenager standing with Marian in the photograph, but he didn't feel the need to say that outloud.

"Do you know that they knew each other?" Mulan asked, setting down the photo and showing him another. In this one Marian looked to be about 14 and was standing in between Nottingham and another boy who closely resembled him, "This one is dated 1993, the other...I guess would have been '96 or '97."

"Yeah, she mentioned they grew up together."

"But you didn't know they dated?"

"She told me that they went out for a while at school," Robin answered.

"You were okay with that? Marian's high school sweetheart was living in the same town as the two of you?" Mulan pushed gently.

"It's a small town. Marian knew most people in Misthaven."

"Robin," she warned.

He sighed, running a hand through his hair, "Alright, yes, I didn't much like the man, but not for the reason you're implying."

The Asian woman waited quietly for him to go on, "I wasn't jealous. She told me they went out at school, but it ended between them years before we met. I had no reason to doubt her."

"But?"

"When we were first opening The Longbow getting all of our licenses took some time. Nottingham came by one day and implied that he could speed up the process for a price."

Mulan's eyebrows jumped, but she didn't comment.

"I told him 'no thank you'" Robin clarified.

"How did he react to that?"

"Not very well. We did eventually get everything we needed, and then a few weeks after we opened he started coming by demanding to see our liquor license...things like that. We also had a few surprise inspections from the health department that they said came from anonymous tips. Of course, I couldn't prove it was Nottingham but..."

"He was harassing you?"

"Yes," Robin sighed, "After that he pulled me over a few times on suspicion of drunk driving...most of the time I couldn't make anything stick for a ticket, but he did give me a few citations for speeding. One for a broken tail light...that he broke with his nightstick."

"Wait, Robin, you're telling me that the sheriff was stalking you?" Mulan demanded.

"I don't know if I'd call it stalking-"

"Why didn't you tell the police about any of this when Marian died?!"

"I didn't think about it."

"What the hell do you mean you didn't think about it?!" she demanded, her voice raising and attracting the attention of the COs.

Robin hushed her, and hissed into the phone, "Because I just wasn't on my mind! This happened three years before she died. I didn't think it relevant."

"Three years?" Mulan asked, "You mean he stopped?"

"Yes," he nodded, "At first I didn't mention this to Marian because I didn't want to worry her, but she saw him come by The Longbow a few times and then after the taillight...I was going to file a complaint with the sheriff's office so I had to tell her, and she asked me to let her speak to him."

"She spoke to him?"

He nodded again, "One night when he came into The Longbow, she sat him down and asked him to talk. I didn't like the idea, but she said they went way back and she thought she could get him to see reason. I don't know what they said, but it seemed to work. He stopped after that."

"Just stopped entirely?"

"Other than giving me a dirty look whenever we ran into each other in town, yes," Robin answered, "Why? Are you saying he had something to do with her death?"

"Um...I don't know-"

"Mulan, did Nottingham hurt Marian?!" he demanded, forgetting the presence of the COs.

"To be honest Robin, I'm not sure..." she paused, an uncomfortable expression crossing her face again, "...I've been looking into the case in preparation for your next appeal. When...it's something about her past I hadn't explored before."

Robin studied his friend and lawyer intently. He'd known Mulan a long time, and, though she was a tough woman, she wasn't very good at being deceptive, and he couldn't help but feel that she was hiding something.

"He wasn't the officer on the scene the night Marian was killed, but do you remember seeing him?" she asked, changing the subject.

He thought back. That night was mostly haze of shock. Finally, he answered, "I think me may have shown up just as they were arresting me. I didn't think much of it at the time because he's the sheriff, and I was...I had other things on my mind. Mulan, tell me the truth. Did he do this to Marian? Did...did he kill her?"

Mulan shook her head, "I don't know. I honestly don't."

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Regina stared out the window over car, listening as Mulan recounted the conversation she'd had with Robin earlier that morning.

"So Nottingham was harassing them and he employed his wife to stop it?" Regina asked with harshness that she even surprised herself with.

The pause on the other end of the phone told her that Mulan was taken aback too. Finally, she answered, "He said it was her idea. That she thought she could talk some sense into him...and he said it worked. Nottingham left them alone."

Regina hummed in response.

"What are you thinking? Do you think he's still a possible suspect?"

"He's the one who told me there was abuse between Robin and Marian Locksley," she answered, "Did he say anything about that?"

"That it never happened," Mulan responded, "By the way, it was fun asking that question without mentioning where I got the idea!"

She hummed again.

"That's a hint that I'd like to know why it is you were so adamant I not mention you're working with me on this case," the younger woman said in annoyance.

Regina sighed before answering, "Rule of thumb in corrections, tell convicts as little as possible about your personal life. You can find yourself in danger if you do."

"Yeah, well, you're not in corrections anymore," Mulan pointed out, "And it seems to me you agree that Robin's innocent!"

"Old habits die hard, I guess," Regina responded, trying her best to sound casual but pointedly ignoring the question about what she thought of Robin's guilt these days.

"Uh huh," Mulan answered, not bothering to hide the sarcasm in her voice.

Regina ignored it, though, as she glanced at her watch, "Listen, I have to go. This guy from the Attorney General's office is expecting me."

"Okay, fine," the other woman sighed, "Good luck."

Hanging up the phone, Regina pushed her car door open and stepped out. The drive to Augusta had taken nearly an hour that morning. It was the first time she'd been since the day she was called to testify about the riot.

Now someone from the Attorney General's office wanted to ask her more questions about it.

She couldn't help the queasy, nervous feeling in her stomach at the thought. She'd tried to get more information out of this Pendragon guy over the phone, but he'd stubbornly refused.

Out of annoyance, she'd resisted the idea of coming to meet him at first, but when he hinted at her being subpoenaed she realized it was probably in her best interest to cooperate.

He didn't seem to indicate that she might be facing any charges, but, still, as she pushed open the building door she couldn't help but wonder if she should have brought her own lawyer along.

Steeling herself, she stepped inside and went over to the reception desk to explain why she was there. Almost, immediately she was given a visitors' badge and directed to an office on the second floor.

She fiddled nervously with the hem of her blazer during the elevator ride, but was determined to convey professionalism as she stepped into this attorney's office.

Looking up from his computer, a fairly large, dark-haired man looked up at her, "Regina Mills?"

"Yes," she nodded, "You must be Arthur Pendragon?"

"That's me," he greeted her in a way that seemed warm on the surface, but she sensed was mostly an act, "Please, have a seat."

She slid stiffly into one of the chairs in front of his desk, "So, may I ask, Mr. Pendragon, what was so important it couldn't be discussed over the phone?"

He smiled, "Straight to the point? I like that. Very well...I had some questions, Warden, about the weeks and months leading up to the riot."

"Yes?"

"Now you said in your statement to Department of Corrections Review Board that you had no inkling of trouble within Coastal Correctional facility?"

"I believe I stated that we'd been having a problem with weapons being smuggled into the prison. At the time, I was attempting to take measures to find out how contraband was getting into the facility, but, no, I didn't have any reason to suspect a riot was being planned," Regina answered.

"I see," Pendragon answered, "None at all?"

"If I'd suspected a riot were a possibility I would have taken measures to prevent it!"

"Would you have?"

"I don't like what you're implying, Mr. Pendragon," she responded.

"I can't understand that, Ms. Mills. However, I'll go ahead and let you know that I'm on the verge of indicting two Corrections Officers and one civilian for conspiracy to cause this riot to occur, so you'll understand why I'm not exactly feeling trusting at the moment?"

"Two?" Regina asked, not being able to help but show a little surprise.

"Well," he shrugged, "Possibly only one, realistically speaking...since one is still comatose."

Regina had heard about Tamara Rice's suspected involvement, and knew that she was still in a coma from the injuries she'd sustained in the riot. What she didn't know what who the other officer might be, so she decided to ask the attorney just that.

"I'm afraid I can't discuss that until the suspects are arraigned," he answered.

"So why did you want me here for? Just to ask me again if I suspected the riot before it happened? Because the answer is still 'no'!"

Pendragon cleared his throat, "I also wanted to ask if you knew anything about a prisoner receiving threats before the riot?"

"Threats?" Regina asked. She recalled the incident in the cafeteria weeks before with Locksley and Heller. Surely that would be too big a coincidence? "Are you talking about Robin Locksley?"

For a moment, the man's face actually betrayed confusion, "Who's that?"

Regina shook herself, "Who are you referring to?"

"I can't say. Who's this Locksley person? Is there something relevant about this inmate?" Pendragon asked.

She sighed, "A few weeks before the riot a fight broke out between two inmates. Robin Locksley and Isaac Heller. It seemed like an isolated incident, but, as I mentioned, weapons were involved. I reported it at the time."

"Were these inmates involved in the riot?" he asked.

"Not to my knowledge," she answered. In Robin Locksley's case she knew, in fact, it was the exact opposite, didn't feel like saying that would help her at the moment.

The man on the other side of the desk studied her for a moment before answered, "Well I'll be requesting a copy of that report, but, no, I was not referring to either of those particular inmates."

"Who were you talking about then?"

"As I said I can't say. The inmate is a confidential informant in this case."

She sighed heavily, "Can you tell me what kind of threats this inmate claims to have received?"

"Threatening letters as well as harassment from COs who aided in the riot."

"That's impossible!" she argued.

"Impossible?" Pendragon asked.

"I never received any complaints about COs or threatening letters from an inmate. Regular cell inspections were performed. No one reported finding any letters!"

Pendragon looked at her skeptically, "Well, Ms. Mills, from the sound of things maybe you didn't know as much as you thought about what was going on in your prison."

Regina wrinkled her brow in annoyance at the assessment.

"Perhaps this inmate didn't feel safe going to you for...help."

"Are you saying I'm a suspect in this riot?" she asked cautiously.

The man laughed in response, "A suspect? Only if obliviousness is a crime! However, at the moment, it isn't, and, as much as I'd like to, I don't have a case to charge you with neglect of duty. From what you've said today you probably won't even be useful as a witness."

During the man's calm but biting diatribe, Regina couldn't help but just stare at him in shock.

"So," he rose from his chair and lead her over to the door, "As far as I'm concerned you can go. Though if you were hoping to ever return to law enforcement...you might want to come up with a backup plan."

With that, he closed the door to his office rather unceremoniously, leaving her standing in the hall shellshocked and fuming.

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 **Author's Note: Sorry guys, I know you wanted Robin and Regina to speak face to face in this chapter, but I really felt like she wouldn't be ready for that yet. Hope you're still enjoying the fic because I figured a double update was called for this weekend!**


	22. Chapter 21

Regina barely even remembered the drive back to Misthaven, as she spent most of it turning the encounter with the Attorney General over in her mind.

Some of what he'd said fit in with what had been happening at the prison before the riot, and what David had managed to find out, but other things made absolutely no sense.

Had she really missed that much?

She wouldn't normally let what the attorney had said get to her, but a lot of it had been things that she'd thought to herself ever since the Department of Corrections let her go.

She'd always considered herself to be good at her job. She took her responsibilities as prison warden seriously, and thought that she'd managed the office very effectively.

Had she really just been oblivious though?

With an irritated sigh, she turned her car into the strip mall parking lot and took a space in front of Mulan's office.

As she pulled open the dingey glass door and stepped in, she found both Mulan and Shang inside sitting at their desks. They had been in the middle of some sort of conversation, which stopped at her arrival.

Glancing at both of them, Regina gave them a somewhat suspicious "hello" while slipping off her coat.

"Hi," Mulan greeted. Regina could practically hear the nervousness in her voice. She hung her coat up on the coat rack, immediately wondering what might have happened since they spoke on the phone earlier that morning.

Before she had a chance to ask, though, Shang cleared his throat uncomfortably, "I'm in the mood for coffee. Anyone else want one?"

"Yeah, that sounds good! Thank you," Mulan answered quickly.

Regina started at both of them with raised eyebrows for a second before nodding 'yes' as well.

With that the normally stoic man quickly grabbed his coat and made his way past her out the door.

Crossing her arms, Regina eyed the younger woman and asked, "You want to tell me what that was all about?"

Sighing heavily, Mulan stood from her desk, "Listen, I really appreciate how dedicated you've been to this case. Really, having your insight has been...really invaluable. I'd never have had time to throw myself into reviewing the evidence the way you have. I appreciate it."

"You said that already."

"Right," she nodded, wringing her hands nervously.

"Mulan, what's going on? What are you trying to say?"

"Just...that I'm not sure about this whole Nottingham angle."

"What do you mean you aren't sure about it?" Regina demanded, "We've barely looked into it!"

"If there's anything to look into," Mulan pointed out.

"What the hell do you mean 'if there's anything to look into'?!" she asked incredulously, "You don't think it's relevant the sheriff was the victim's ex-boyfriend?"

"In a town this size? It could easily just be a coincidence. Just because the sheriff knew the victim-"

"Which he never disclosed!"

"He wasn't assigned to the case. There wouldn't have been any reason for to him to disclose that he knew Marian."

Regina's jaw dropped open in disbelief at those words.

"Besides," Mulan went on, "He didn't keep it a secret-"

"Didn't keep it a secret?!"

"It's public record that the DuBois family lived next door to Katherine and Frank Gisborne. They raised their nephew, Keith Nottingham, from when he was 11 when his mother died. His father is unknown. The DuBois' died in a car accident a decade ago. The Gisbornes moved to Florida a few years back. They had a son who has moved around New England since then. His last address was in Boston. All three of them were in the same graduating class at the local high school..." Mulan trailed off, "...nothing to indicate Nottingham or Marian were hiding anything."

"In several conversations we had about her murder, Nottingham never once mentioned to me that he used to date Marian Locksley!" Regina argued.

"Yeah, that's one thing that doesn't make sense to me. You said you've spoken to Nottingham several times about Marian's murder, and he mentioned that he suspected Robin was abusing her. When did that happen?"

"He came by the prison shortly before your last appeal. He wanted to make sure Robin stayed inside."

"And that's when he mentioned suspecting abuse?"

"No," Regina admitted, "That happened a few weeks later...we had dinner together."

Mulan's eyebrows jumped.

With a sigh, she pre-empted the obvious questions, "I originally met Keith Nottingham on a blind date. Then after the appeal, we ran into each other while I was out with some friends and he invited himself join us."

"But you never mentioned that you were involved with him-"

"Because I'm not!" Regina snapped, "I was never interested in him! The guy was obviously a scumbag!"

"Yeah, I never got a good vibe from him either," Mulan admitted, "and that's even before I heard about him harassing Robin and Marian."

"Exactly! He left that out too!"

"Well, if he really did what Robin said, he probably wouldn't be too inclined to brag about trying to shake down local businesses, and retaliating against those who refused with unwarranted traffic stops!"

"Yes, that's true, but Robin can testify about the harassment."

"We have no evidence to corroborate it, though," Mulan explained gently, "It'd be the word of a police officer against that of a convict. Besides, even if we did, all it'd prove is corruption. It's a pretty big leap to go from soliciting bribes to rape and murder. We don't know that whatever Nottingham did to them has anything at all to do with Marian's death."

Regina slowly opened and closed her mouth, "You...I...are you actually saying those words right now?"

Mulan sighed, but didn't say anything in response. After pacing back and forth in agitation a few times, Regina turned to her, "For weeks...for weeks you have been trying to convince that he's innocent! You've been bugging me about it almost nonstop! You begged me to help you, and when I finally discover a lead you don't believe it?!"

"I didn't say that!" the other woman defended, "I'm just...I just want to be sure we aren't chasing after phantoms. To be sure that I'm spending time on things that will actually help my client's chances for a successful appeal. This Nottingham thing...if I go into court and accuse the sheriff of being involved, with no evidence to support the claim, I could end up facing disciplinary action from the state bar and that certainly won't help Robin!"

Regina shook her head in disbelief, "So you're worried about your reputation?"

Mulan crossed her arms and looked at her with mild reproach, "No, I'm not just worried about my reputation, I'm worried about what effect this may have on my friend and his future!"

"Funny way of showing it," Regina muttered.

"You weren't there this morning. You refused to come with me-"

"I told you I had to go to Augusta to meet with the Attorney General-"

"Right, conveniently enough," the younger woman said darkly, "The point is, though, that you weren't there so you didn't see how Robin reacted when I brought up Keith Nottingham in relation to Marian's murder. He asked me if he was responsible."

An incredulous laugh fell from her lips, as Regina gave the other woman a pointed look.

"And the honest answer would have been that there's absolutely no evidence to indicate that!" Mulan argued, "I'd already planted the seed, though, so I can tell he isn't going to let go of the idea any time soon! When, in fact, it may turn out that no evidence exists. However...now he's always going to be wondering if he knew the person who killed his wife and never suspected a thing!"

"What if he did?" Regina asked.

"What if he didn't I just went in there and opened old wounds for no reason? Or, worse, what if he did and we can never prove that? What if we waste time looking for evidence Nottingham was involved when there simply is none? That's not going to help clear Robin's name. Not going to help him stop missing his son's childhood-"

"Finding the person who actually killed his wife wouldn't do that?!" Regina cut her off angrily, "Seems to me that'd solve pretty much everything."

"...but it isn't absolutely necessary," Mulan answered, slowly calming her voice, "I'm working on a motion to get Robin a new trial. For that all we need is sufficient evidence that the prosecution acted improperly or that new evidence has been discovered. From there all we need is reasonable doubt. Yes, juries love alternative suspects, but sometimes that isn't possible and you just have to work with the standard of introducing reasonable doubt."

"Because that worked so well for you before?" Regina pointed out sarcastically.

"Regina-"

"Forget it," she waved the other woman off, turning to grab her coat off the coat rack, "If you don't think there's anything to the connection to Nottingham, I don't think there's anything else I can do for you-"

"Regina, I'm not saying I don't believe you, I'm just trying to pursue the evidence that will most help us and I think that's the blood evidence from the crime scene!"

"Well, good luck!"

With that she yanked open the door and stormed out into the parking lot.

* 0 * 0 * 0 * 0 * 0 * 0 *

As she parked her car, Regina shoved down the button to close the garage door behind her, and grabbed her purse.

Slamming the door inside behind her, she took a few deep, heavy breaths.

With a growl, she flung her purse against the wall, clenching her firsts by her sides in anger.

"Mom?" Henry's voice called from the livingroom.

Swearing under her breath, Regina quickly stepped over to pick her handbag back up from where she'd huffily thrown it.

"You okay?" Henry asked as he appeared in the hall.

"Oh," she plastered on a smile, "Yes, dear, I'm fine. I just dropped my purse."

He looked questioningly at her, but decided against questioning her further, "Okay, so...what's for dinner?"

Part of her wanted to be annoyed at being ambushed with that question the moment she walked in the door, but after fuming the entire drive from Misthaven to Storybrooke she simply laughed at the incongruity of it.

Standing from a squatting position, she sighed, "Well, it is Friday night, so what do you say we order pizza?"

He perked up, "Really?"

She nodded, "Yeah, I don't really feel like cooking tonight."

Whooping in celebration, Henry ran off to the kitchen to retrieve the menu from the fridge.

Regina took advantage of a few moments distraction to try to gain better control over her breathing. As she did so, she slid her coat off her shoulders and hung it up in the closet, realizing just how tired she actually felt.

* 0 * 0 * 0 * 0 * 0 * 0 *

In the end, Henry managed to talk her into not only pizza, but also soda and a giant cookie for them to split.

Normally Regina insisted Henry eat healthy meals when he was at home, but, after everything that had happened today, she was in the mood to do a little stress eating.

Over their takeout meal, she engaged in just enough conversation to get Henry talking, and then mostly just listened with one ear while the day's events played through her mind over and over again.

"Mom?" Henry's voice cut through her foggy brain.

"Hm?", she hummed through a bite of chocolate chip cookie.

"I said Nicolas is having a sleepover tomorrow and I thought...maybe...I could go?"

"Oh, yes, of course you can," she answered.

If she'd been paying more attention, Regina would have noticed a surprised look pass over her son's face before quickly being replaced by a grin.

Deciding not to push his luck on her unexpected generosity, Henry picked up his glass and took a sip of Coke, "So how's work?"

"Work?" Regina repeated.

"Yeah."

"Why?" she asked, feeling slightly paranoid.

He shrugged, "You always ask me how school is."

"Ah," Regina swallowed hard, the chocolate leaving a cloying taste in her mouth, "Well, it's...fine."

"Just fine?" he laughed, pointedly throwing back the words she'd so often said to him.

She smirked, "Yes, it's fine. Although, I don't think I'll be working there much longer."

"Why not?" Henry asked.

"No reason," she answered, hoping it came out sounding casual, "This job was always just temporary. The lawyer I'm working for...I suspect she'll be wrapping up her case soon."

That was definitely bending the truth beyond all recognition, but she hadn't told Henry anything about exactly what case she'd been working on. Just that she'd gotten a job doing some investigating for a local attorney.

"Think she'll win?" he asked, taking another sip of Coke.

"I don't know," Regina answered honestly.

"Why? Did the guy do it?"

She looked up at her son, "How did you...Henry Daniel Coulter have you been going through my briefcase? Any of the things in my car?"

Henry lowered his glass, surprised at her sudden anger, "What? No, Mom!"

"Then how do you know about the case I'm working on?!" she demanded.

"I don't!"

"You asked if the suspect was guilty? How did you know this was a criminal case?"

"Well that's how it always is!" he said defensively, "You know like on TV? Did the guy do it? That's what they always ask!"

"Oh," Regina let out a relieved breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding.

"So did he?"

"What?"

"Did the guy form your case do it? Whatever 'it' is?"

"Well...it's looking like probably not," Regina answered, running her thumb against the edge of her glass. That was the first time she'd said that outloud. "However, that still needs to be proven and I'm not sure we'll be able to do that."

"You'll find a way," Henry answered with such a confident, matter-of-fact tone, that it took Regina by surprise.

Staring at his face, she slowly asked, "What makes you say that?"

"Because it's the right thing," he answered, "You always do the right thing."

Guiltily, she remembered Arthur Pendragon's blunt assessment of her tenure as warden and muttered, "I'm not so sure about that."

"Of course, you do," Henry laughed, "It's what you taught me. Do the right thing no matter what."

Regina looked up at her son, feeling tears prickling in her eyes at the sincere words. Clearing her throat, she rose from the table, "Well, I appreciate that. Now, what do you say we start putting away these leftovers?"

* 0 * 0 * 0 * 0 * 0 * 0 *

The bar was called The Rabbit Hole, and it looked like a dive even from the outside. A few notes of loud music blared across the parking lot occasionally, but, other than that, the night was mostly quiet.

Regina had been staring at the door for the past 15 minutes, and had probably decided six different times that she was going to turn around and drive home...and just as many times that she was going to go through with this.

She let out a deep breath that fogged the inside of her car window. She shouldn't be doing this. This was crazy. It was a completely bad idea.

In the back of her mind, though, she heard the dual voices of Arthur Pendragon calling her oblivious, and her son telling her that he'd learned from her to always do the right thing.

Was this the right thing though?

She should go home.

This was not a good idea.

Her son would be expecting her there the next morning.

Her son who thought she did the right thing no matter what. She wondered what he'd think about her sitting at home when she knew, with very little doubt in her mind at this point, about an ongoing injustice.

Groaning in frustration, she scooped up her handbag and yanked the door of her car open.

She'd spent more time deciding on her outfit for tonight than she had her first date with Daniel. Not sure whether she should look more casual to give the guise of an accidental meeting or go for alluring, or whether that would be too obvious a ploy.

In the end, she'd decided to hedge her bets and went for a tight black skirt, high-heeled boots, and bright red lipstick. He'd always struck her as a man of…uncomplicated tastes.

Shoving open the door, she made her way down the stairs into the bar. She spotted the person she was looking for almost immediately, knocking back a mug of beer at the bar.

Taking a steadying breath, she squared her shoulders and made her way over to slide onto the stool next to his.

Setting her handbag down, she pulled her lips back into a sultry smile and asked, "So, what's a girl have to do to get a drink around here?"

Lowering his mug, Keith Nottingham met her eyes from underneath his slightly more disheveled than usual hair, and said, "Regina? This is a surprise."


	23. Chapter 22

Keith looked her up and down asking, "What brings you here tonight, Darling?"

She shrugged, "As I said, I wanted a drink."

"Riiight," he drawled, but still motioned to the bartender, "What do you fancy?"

She hummed, tossing her hair as she thought it over, "A shot of Bourbon?"

He raised his eyebrows, quirking the side of his mouth as said to the bartender, "Two shots of Bourbon, and two more beers."

When their drinks arrived Regina picked up hers, holding it out to Keith to toast. A surprised expression again crossed his face, but he clinked his glass against hers before they both knocked back the shot.

Swallowing against the burn, Regina set the shot glass down on the bar. Letting out a breath, she shoved herself off the bar stool and strode over to the wall containing a dart board, making sure to let her hips sway freely as she walked. Gathered up a handful of darts, she walked back over to stand directly in front of him, a little more close than was strictly necessary.

"So how about it?" she asked, twirling one of the darts between her fingers, "Up for a little game?"

He grinned at her, waggling his eyebrows, "I can be up for anything if you're the one offering."

By sheer force of will she managed to keep her smile from falling into a grimace as, she turned around to aim the first dart at the board.

* 0 * 0 * 0 * 0 * 0 * 0 *

Two games later, she sat perched on the edge of the bar stool as Keith tossed the darts at the board, hitting with fairly decent accuracy.

She wasn't, however, particularly interested in keeping score as she worried her glass between her hands.

She'd been subtly pouring drinks into the well all night to make it look like she'd drank more than she actually had.

Keith swore as his final dart narrowly missed the center ring on the board. As he turned around, Regina relaxed her expression into a lazy, smiling one.

"Guess you're having a lucky streak tonight, Darling," he said, sauntering back over to her to take a sip of his beer.

"I guess so," she responded, swaying in her seat a little.

"So," he said trailing his hand down the side of her arm, "Are you finally going to tell me what you're doing here tonight?"

Regina felt her skin crawling as he touched her, but she forced it downs. Slurring a laugh, she responded, "Do I need a reason?"

"No in my book," he answered, "Though you don't seem the type of woman who does things without one."

She sighed internally as he looked at her expectantly. The man was stupid, but apparently not completely.

Letting out a breath, she turned on her stool to stare into the mirror at the back of the bar, "I wanted to escape."

"Escape?" he repeated.

"Get away," she amended, "Go somewhere without reminders of...things."

"What sort of things?"

She shrugged, "The fact that you can work hard at a job. Give it the best years of your life and one day someone decides to just throw you under the bus."

"Ah," he said in realization, "So this is you drowning your sorrows over getting canned?"

"Yeah, I suppose it is," she answered, "Look if you don't want to hear it you can just go. I can drink on my own."

"No," he shook his head, "You need a shoulder to cry on? Well I'm happy to be it."

Beneath the bar she gripped her hand into a fist, contemplating just how much she'd bet he was. Luckily, before her temper gave her away the bartender interrupted them to yell for last call.

Glancing over at him with a rueful expression, she said, "Guess it'll have to wait until next time."

"Not necessarily," Keith answered tossing a few bills onto the bar, "We could go back to my place."

She laughed tucking a lock of hair behind her ear, and commenting coyly, "I don't know, wouldn't that mean drinking and driving?"

"Oh, I wouldn't worry about that...I know the sheriff," he answered, running his hand up her knee. It was only by sheer force of will that she didn't jump away from his touch.

Instead, drawing on all she had in her she plastered a seductive smile on her lips and answered, "Lead the way then."

* 0 * 0 * 0 * 0 * 0 * 0 *

After a somewhat surreal car ride during which she followed Keith's police cruiser down the road, wincing every time he started to drift into the next lane, she found herself following him up the steps to his apartment.

Her stomach was jumping as she fumbled with his keys and shoved open the door.

Smiling lazily at her, he tossed the keys onto the coffee table and shrugged off his leather jacket, "So can I get you a beer? Maybe something stronger?"

"Beer sounds good," she answered quickly, definitely not wanting to be drinking anything stronger.

"Make yourself comfortable then," he told her. She forced as smile, sinking onto his couch shakily. Unshockingly, his apartment was the epitome of a bachelor bad. Clutter covering black leather furniture and a large entertainment center with a flat-screen TV mounted on the wall, the entire place infused with the stench of gun oil and dirty laundry.

Taking deep steady breaths, she smoothed down her skirt across her thighs wondering what she was thinking coming here? Cozying up and putting herself alone with a man she seriously suspected might be a rapist and murderer?

Even if she managed to keep her wits enough to stay out of danger, what was she going to do next?

Did she seriously think she could just get him to...confess to stabbing his high school girlfriend to death and framing her husband?

She shook her head, scooping up her purse, and jumping up from the sofa. This was crazy! She hadn't thought this through well enough. She needed to just go before she really stepped in it.

Her had was just to the door when it swung open abruptly. Stumbling back in shock, she found herself face to face with a tall man in a black and red leather jacket with a matching helmet complete with full visor over his face.

Her lips dropped open and she stood frozen in place as he stepped into the apartment, pushing the door closed behind him.

Reaching up he yanked the helmet up over his head, long black locks of hair tumbling out from under as he shook them free and transferred the helmet over to his hip. The man underneath looked her slowly up and down, pinning her in place with his gaze before giving her a slow toothy grin and saying, "Well hello there. Who might you be?"

"Um…" she stammered, throat having gone inexplicably dry.

"Now where were we," Keith's voice and heavy footsteps shook her out of her momentary shock. As he walked into the room, he froze, his smug expression falling at the sight of the other man.

"I thought you were gonna be out tonight?" he demanded.

"I'm home early," the other man answered, no taking his eyes off Regina.

"Yeah well, I'm busy!" Keith said irritably.

"I can see that," he said, fixing her with another wolfish grin, "I'm Guy."

She cleared her throat, trying to regain her composure and answered, "Regina."

Lifting her hand to his lips with a leer and said, "Pleasure to meet you."

As he kissed her hand Regina almost swore she felt her heart stop. She didn't know what it was about this man that made her so uncomfortable, but she wanted yank her hand out of his and demand he back up...a lot!

"Alright, Cuz, why don't you find somewhere else to be?" Keith interrupted.

"But I just got here," he joked, tossing his helmet into the corner of the room and shrugging off his jacket, "And it'd be rude just to run out when we have company."

"We don't have company, I do!"

"That anyway to speak to family, Keith?" he shot back sarcastically.

Regina studied the two men as they argued. Their fight having given her a moment to collect herself, she began noticing the obvious similarities between them. Both had the same rat faces and dark hair, and both were of similar build and very tall...towering well over her.

At that observance, she drew herself up as much as she could, clearing her throat loudly to cut into the argument, "Actually, you know what? I was just leaving. My son will be expecting me home soon."

Henry, of course, was sleeping over at his friend's house, but she wasn't about to share that.

"No, Regina, don't go," Keith protested.

"Yeah, Regina," Guy echoed, flopping down on the couch, "I'm sure three of us could have a good time together."

She laughed in a way that she hoped sounded authentic and answered, "Rain check."

With that she tossed open the door and strode quickly to the stairs. She tore down them as quickly as she could without obviously running. The air outside having gotten even colder than it was when she went into the bar.

Wrapping her arms around herself, she began making her way up the sidewalk toward the parking lot at the side of the building where she'd left her car.

Stepping off the sidewalks she turned into the parking lot, digging her keys out of her purse. Mid-stride she paused, noting that a black and red motorcycle was parked in a space between her Mazda and the exit.

She stood silently, staring at it for a while before shaking herself. No, now she was really just getting paranoid!

* 0 * 0 * 0 * 0 * 0 * 0 *

Quickly shoving a sandwich, carrot sticks, and can of lemonade into the bag, she set Henry's lunch on the kitchen counter.

"Henry!" Regina called up the stairs, "I have to leave for work early today, so your lunch is in the kitchen."

"Okay, Mom!" Henry yelled from the bathroom.

As she gathered up her purse and coat she continued on, "Please eat something reasonable for breakfast! There's yogurt, there's fruit...a lot of options other than Pop Tarts!"

"Okay!" he repeated.

"And do not miss your bus! If I have to come back because you need a ride to school, I'll be very upset with you!" she warned, getting her keys out, "I'm going now. I love you."

"Love you too!" echoed down the stairs.

Satisfied, she went out into the garage and got into her car. Slamming the door closed behind her, she started up the engine, and pressed the overhead door opener. As the garage door clattered open, she backed out and turned down the road toward Misthaven.

After their blow-up on Friday she wasn't certain what she was going to say to Mulan when she got to the firm. Part of her thought she should apologize, and part of her was saying she should tell the other woman where to stick her quest to free Locksley from prison!

In the end, she was saved from having to make the choice, at least for a few hours, as, when she arrived at the office Shang was the only person there.

Looking up from a stack of papers as she entered, he said, "Hey."

"Hi," she said back.

Clearing his throat uncomfortably he told her, "Mulan isn't here right now."

"Ah, okay," she nodded, "Do you know when…"

He understood the question without her having to complete, "Probably later this afternoon. She's in court with a client, but it shouldn't take too long. Simple disorderly conduct case."

"Right," she answered, "Well do you mind if I sit down and do some work in the meantime?"

He shook his head, "No, go right ahead."

"Thank you," she murmured, slipping off her coat and taking a seat at the small table near the front of the office. As she began digging her notes and a few materials about the case out of her bag, she wondered what exactly she thought she was going to work on. They case was at as much of a dead end as it had been on Friday.

With a sigh she opened her notebook and began flipping back through the things she'd written down.

Most of the latest notes were about Marian Locksley's connection to Keith Nottingham. After finding the pictures of them in the storage locker she'd gone through everything that was on public record, and, like Mulan, found that they lived next door to each other as children, went to the same school together, and both never left Misthaven.

She sighed, tapping her pen against the notepad and wondering if maybe Mulan had been right that she'd jumped to conclusions too much after seeing the pictures of Keith and Marian.

Yeah, he'd given her the creeps when she'd spent time with him over the weekend, but the fact that she'd convinced herself he was a rapist probably had something to do with that!

Of course, she hadn't exactly had a good feeling about him the times they'd gone out before she knew he had a connection to Marian.

Flipping back away from her notes about Keith Nottingham, she started reading back over the other evidence she'd studied. That is if one could call it evidence. The problem in this entire case had been that there was very little evidence. Even the evidence that convinced Locksley in the first place was a bit thin.

As the read back over the notes she'd taken from her interview with the former-neighbor, Constance Lucas, her eyes stopped at the bottom of the page where she'd written the underlined word "motorcycle."

She let out an irritated huff as she was instantly taken back to Saturday night, standing in a parking lot in Misthaven next to a motorcycle. Slamming the notebook closed, she pinched the bridge of her nose.

First she'd been convinced it was Keith and now she thought it was his cousin? Just because the guy drove a motorcycle and the Locksleys' 65 year old neighbor mentioned maybe hearing a motorcycle the night she died?

She didn't even have to tell herself how insane that was. A lot of people drove motorcycles! There was no indication Gisborne had even been in Maine four years ago. She was almost certain Mulan had said his last address was in Massachusetts.

Her musings were interrupted when the door clattered open.

"Regina," Mulan said, looking surprised to see her, "You're here."

"Yeah," she rose from her chair, "Listen I wanted to apologize for what happened on Friday. What you said...well it makes sense."

"Oh," the other woman answered, "Well...thank you. I appreciate that."

"Yeah," Regina repeated.

"I meant what I said," Mulan went on, "I do appreciate your help with this case. Really."

"Thanks," she answered, not quite enthusiastically, "Anyway, what's our next move?"

"I subpoenaed Marian's medical records last week. Just to follow up on your thing about allegations of abuse," Mulan said as she hung up her coat and set her briefcase down on her desk, "They should be arriving by courier either today or tomorrow. We can re-group after reviewing them."

Regina nodded, "Sounds reasonable."

The other woman nodded, "In the meantime um...would you mind taking these photos back to the storage locker? I'm sorry I don't really have anything else for you to do today."

"It's fine," she shook her head, holding her hand out to take the stack of snapshots. She dropped them absently on top of her notebook as she shrugged on her coat, and lifted her bag over her shoulder. As she gathered up the pictures, she couldn't help but stare at the one on top. It wasn't the prom picture that originally caught her attention, but another she'd found in the same box.

A very young dark-skinned girl in between two rat-faced boys with the same scraggly black hair they still had today. Flipping over to the back she read the writing on it before: 'Keith, Guy + Marian, 1993'

Shoving the photos into her bag she said casually, "You know I might take a lunch after I'm done at the storage facility."

"Of course!" Mulan said from her computer, "I mean...go ahead. Take as long as you'd like."

As she pushed her way out the door, Regina mused that it was probably a bad sign when your boss was eager for you to take a long lunch.

* 0 * 0 * 0 * 0 * 0 * 0 *

"Mmm," Emma hummed in pleasure as she shoved clumps of Pad Thai into her mouth with chopsticks, "Oh, so good!"

Lifting her booted feet onto her desk, she sighed as she glanced over at Regina, "Mind if I have a sip of your drink?"

Wordlessly, she handed her bottle over. The blonde took a sip, immediately leaping forward in her chair as she began choking.

"Oh God, what is that stuff?"

"It's Kombucha," Regina answered grabbing the bottle back as it dangled from the other woman's hand, "And you're about to spill it!"

"Cum-what?!" Emma demanded from behind teary eyes.

"Kombucha," Regina repeated with an eyeroll, "It's a probiotic tea."

"Ugh," the younger woman groaned, shoving herself up from her chair to make her way over to the fridge and pull out a can of Coke.

"So where's August?" Regina asked, glancing around the small studio apartment they shared.

"He got a freelance gig for a magazine for an article on one of the comic book conventions," Emma said.

"Is that in San Diego?"

The blonde raised her eyebrows in surprise as she chewed another bite of noodle.

"I have a 13 year old son," Regina shrugged.

"Okay well, the main ComicCon is in San Diego but there are lot of smaller conventions all around the country," Emma answered, wiping her mouth with a napkin, "So are going to go ahead and ask me?"

"Ask what?"

"Whatever it is you want?"

Regina stared at her, "What makes you think I want something?"

"You drove 30 miles out of your way to bring me lunch form the only Thai place in rural Maine" the other woman stated simply.

"I told you I'm working in Misthaven now, so I was in the area," she argued.

"Yeah but you still had to drive back over to Storybrooke in the middle of the day! Come on, Regina!"

Sticking her chopsticks into her own noodles she sighed, "Alright I was hoping you could help me look into someone."

Grabbing her keyboard Emma asked, "What's the name?"

"Keith Nottingham."

"This for that lawyer you told me about?"

"Yes," Regina nodded.

After a few minutes of typing she said, "Whoa! You're investigating the Sheriff of Misthaven?! What the hell kind of case is this you're working on? Do I want to know?"

"Probably not."

"Okay," Emma grumbled, turning back to her computer, "Well it looks like he's mostly clean. A few abuse of power complaints but nothing that the state deemed credible."

"Doesn't always mean much," Regina remarked, knowing that just weeks before she'd defending the validity of that information. Oh how things change.

"True," the other woman acknowledged, "No criminal record, though. Social media looks fairly normal. I mean...I don't know what you were expecting to find?"

She didn't really either. Tapping her fingers on the edge of her food carton, she said, "What about his cousin?"

"His cousin?" Emma repeated.

"Yeah, his name's Guy Gisborne."

"You know…" Emma said as she typed away, "...if you got your PIs license you could do this kind of thing yourself."

She laughed ruefully, "Make my living stalking cheating spouses?"

The blond looked at her out the side of her eye, "It's the information age, Regina, you don't need to hire someone to catch your husband or wife cheating. Just check their text log!"

"All the more reason to keep my options open," she answered.

"Okay, well, the cousin has a fairly extensive history," Emma said.

Regina moved closer to the computer, "What for?"

"Um...possession of a controlled substance, looks like heroin and cocaine, possession with intent to distribute, solicitation of a minor….wow, nice guy...drunk and disorderly conduct, assault and battery...looks like there was also a domestic violence complaint…" she trailed off as she opened up the file, "...victim chose not to go to trial, but it looks like he beat the hell out of his girlfriend."

The file that popped up on the screen included an attached photograph of the victim. Regina stared at it intently from over the younger woman's shoulder. Behind the dark purple bruises and split lip Marian Locksley stared back at her.

"Regina?" Emma drew her attention.

"Yes?" she asked.

"You okay?"

"Fine," she answered, looking back at the photo. Of course, it was not Marian Locksley, but the woman whose blank expression was currently on the screen did bear an uncanny resemblance to her. They could have been sisters.

Swallowing she asked, "Who was the victim?"

Emma clicked through the file and answered, "Yasmin al Sultan. Um...according to her Facebook page it looks like she's a student at Harvard...or at least she was, it hasn't been updated in years….oh."

"What?" Regina asked.

"Her last known address was in Boston, it's the same one listed for Gisborne on the arrest report but that was seven years ago. Since then she's had three arrests for prostitution."

"She's on the streets."

"Looks like it," Emma nodded sadly, "Her last arrest was two years ago...after that she goes off the grid."

Regina sighed.

"Does this help you?" the other woman asked curiously.

"Maybe...I don't know."

 **TBC...**


	24. Chapter 23

****TRIGGER WARNING** This chapter features discussion of sexual and domestic violence**

 **A/N: Thank you so much everyone for sticking with this story. Marian's murder will be solved next chapter and I expect to resolve the story in 2-3 more chapters.**

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"So Murphy is no longer with the Storybrooke PD?" Regina asked, sighing in irritation.

"No, he moved to Florida a year ago," David answered, "Some reason you're asking?"

"This case I'm working on might have a connection to Boston and I figured since he used to be with BPD…"

"Oh, what's the case?"

"Oh just some...cigarette trafficking thing," she lied, glancing up as Mulan walked into the office, "Listen, David, thanks anyway. I have to go."

With that she hung up the phone.

Mulan looked at her questioningly as she hung up her coat.

"Just following up on something," Regina said, quickly changing the subject, "This came for you by messenger."

"Oh good!" Mulan grabbed the envelope, pulling a chair over to open it.

"What is it?"

"Marian Locksley's medical records for the past ten years. I asked an expert witness, whom I've consulted before, to review them and make an assessment about whether there were any signs of ongoing, or past, abuse," she explained.

"Expert witness?" Regina asked.

"Yes, why?"

"Among law enforcement the general opinion is that expert witnesses are often just paid to support whatever the defense is trying to present."

"And yet the prosecution uses them just as often," Mulan pointed out, "Believe me I know how the system sees expert witnesses when the defense calls them. However my guy's not like that. He was a social worker before he went into medicine, and works for a non-profit clinic."

"Okay, well, what was his assessment?" Regina asked.

Reading over the papers, Mulan said, "No signs of injuries that would indicate abuse. In fact, he notes that, from her records, she seemed to be in perfect health. I don't know what Nottingham was trying to pull when he gave you that information, but-"

"Maybe he wanted to create his own narrative of the Locksleys' relationship!" she pointed out in exasperation, "And I don't know about you, but if he was lying, like it appears he was, it makes me wonder why!"

"Regina, we've discussed this," the other woman said tiredly, "Of course, I wonder why, and I agree it's suspicious! However, even if you're willing to testify under oath that Nottingham told you Robin was abusive and her medical records indicate it wasn't true, it doesn't help our case! Even if there was no history of abuse, it doesn't prove Robin didn't kill her that night!"

"Right, right," Regina sighed, "Fine."

Putting the box aside, Mulan asked, "So what was this thing you were following up on?"

"Nothing much," she brushed off the question, "Just loose ends."

The other woman stared at her curiously.

"If it turns out to be something significant, I'll let you know," Regina assured her.

"Okay," she nodded, walking over to her desk where she pulled out a box of files which she asked Regina to organize.

She spent the next few hours organizing the files associated with the Locksley case, as Mulan worked at her computer in silence.

After getting the box in order she looked around the office with a sigh. Opening her notebook she absently began jotting down everyone she knew with a connection to Boston...and the one by one crossing of those who were no longer available, or who hadn't been able to help her.

At the top of the list, of course was Emma. Last time they spoke she'd promised to continue looking into Yasmin al Sultan, but Regina hadn't heard anything from her since.

Picking up her phone she typed out a message, ' _Hey, any news?'_

The phone dinged a few moments later, ' _Afraid not. Sorry. This girl must have gone pretty far off the grid.'_

Regina shook her head, sighing in exasperation.

' _If you really want to find her I'd suggest someone who might know something about her time on the street,'_ Emma messaged back.

' _But I can't really help with that. The criminal population of Boston doesn't have much trust for me.'_

It was a reference to her time as a bounty hunter in Boston, and it was an understandable problem...the same one Regina had, in fact.

' _So unless you know someone from Boston with a shady sense of morality…'_

The text was obviously meant to be a joke, but it jogged something in Regina's mind. A confidential informant from a few years ago who'd been caught dealing drugs in Storybrooke. He was, originally, however from Boston.

Snatching up her phone she quickly type out a text asking Emma to look up someone else for her.

* 0 * 0 * 0 * 0 * 0 * 0 *

As she parked her car down the street, Regina stared out the window of her car with a disbeleving sigh. The man was still a living cliche.

The man in question was Jefferson Milliner. One of her former inmates. Small time drug dealer and classic jail-house snitch!

He'd done three years at Coastal before being paroled six months ago. Apparently he was up to his old tricks again, and actually doing so by loitering around the high school!

She made a mental note to bring that up at the next PTA meeting before Henry went there next year.

As the students filtered by him and the street began to clear, she opened her car door and walked across the street up behind him.

"Don't you need a cane and a feathered hat if you're going to be this obvious?" she asked dryly.

His wavy hair that was sticking out from under his beanie, swished as he turned around to face her. Eyebrows jumping nearly to under the brim of his cap, he said cautiously, "Warden...what are you doing here?"

"I could ask you the same thing," she shot back.

"Just on my way to work," he answered, innocent facade instantly going up.

"Yeah, I can see that," she remarked, nodding to the school.

"I don't know what you're implying, Warden...although from what I hear you got fired so I guess I don't really need to call you that!" Jefferson responded coldly.

She chuckled humorlessly, "No, Jefferson, I'm not a warden anymore."

"Then I guess we're just two regular citizens of this town," he answered smugly, "So you have a nice day."

As he turned to walk away she said, "I do still have plenty of friends in the department of corrections, though, and the Storybrooke PD."

He stopped, glancing back at her.

"I wonder if any of them might know your parole officer," she mused outloud.

Clenching his jaw visibly, he stepped back up to her and hissed, "Alright what do you want? You're here threatening me rather than just calling those cop friends of yours, so what is it?!"

"I'm looking for someone. A woman from Boston," she explained.

"Why do you need my help with that?"

"By all apearances she's disappeared into the city's criminal underbelly," Regina explained, "I need someone who was a part of that."

Jefferson sighed, "Who is she?"

Pulling a photocopy of the cover of her latest arrest report, Regina passed it to him, "Yasmin al Sultan. She goes by 'Jasmine.'"

He looked over the report and asked, "Prostitute?"

"Yes," she nodded, "Her last arrest was two years ago."

Shoving the page back at her he said, "I'm no pimp, Warden. I have an eight year old daughter, ,I'd never mistreat a woman."

"Well that's noble of you, but I'm guessing during your time dealing in Boston you might have met a few people who didn't share your ehthics?"

He sighed heavily.

"All I need is one meeting with her," Regina pressed, "You make that happen, you'll never see me again."

Thinking it over, he finally answered, "I can't promise anything but I might know a few people..."

"That's all I ask," she said irritably, staching the paper back and shoving it into her purse.

"What exactly do you want with her anyway?" Jefferson asked.

"That's my concern," she shot back.

He laughed, "Need to know basis huh? You really have fallen a long way, Warden!"

"I'm working as investigator for a local attorney. It's for a case."

"Hey, I don't judge," he said, putting his hands up defensively. Clearly indicating he didn't believe her.

She glared, prompted him to simply laugh harder.

"So?"

"So what?" she repeated.

"If I find information on this 'Jasmine' how do you want me to get in touch with you?" he asked, speaking as if she were slow.

Tearing a scrap out of her notebook she jotted down her cell phone number, "You can text me at this number...texts only! I mean it!"

"Whatever you say, Warden," he grumbled, shoving the scrap of paper into the back pocket of his skinny jeans, "Now I think I'll be on my way."

With that he sauntered off down the street, leaving Regina standing there awkwardly. Gathering herself, she walked back to her car and turned toward home.

She wasn't sure if this new investigative tactice was a good idea, but it was too late to turn back now.

Henry was just getting off the school bus when she arrived home. Smiling she happily greeted him and tried to in engage him in a bit of conversation about his school day as she prepared him a snack. He, of course, was more eager to go play video games.

Accepting the inevitable she sent him off to get his homework done first and set to work preparing dinner. Since she'd gotten out of work early, she decided to spurge and make lasagna.

She'd just gotten the meat sauce to a simmer and was preparing to drain the noodles when her phone buzzed in her pocket.

Pouring the noodles into the strainer, she set it down in the sink and pulled out her phone.

There was a new text from an unfamiliar local number that simply said 'Found her. Will text back when I can set up a meeting.'

Staring at the text, she mused that it almost seemed too easy.

* 0 * 0 * 0 * 0 * 0 * 0 *

The park was a very public place, so that made her feel somewhat better. Still, making this trip because her recidivist ex-prisoner told her to was a really risk decision. Even-though she'd asked him...she couldn't help but second guess herself. Glancing at her phone, she reminded herself that she'd sent Mary-Margaret a text telling her where she'd be and to check in later to make sure everything was okay. She, of course, had been extremely vague about why she was going, but there wasn't much else she could do.

Finally, she caught sight of Jefferson walking toward her from the other side of the park. Rolling her eyes she went over to him. He was wearing the same tattered blazer and beanie he'd been in last time she saw him back in Storybrooke.

"What took you so long?" she hissed, "You told me to meet you here an hour ago!"

"I was delayed by a business emergency," he informed her, "Don't worry. I already checked ahead. Your girl's still here."

"Where?" Regina asked. She'd been looking around this park for the entire time she'd been waiting and hadn't seen anyone fitting the description of Yasmin al Sultan.

"Play area up over the hill," he answered, motioning for her to go ahead of him.

At the top of the hill, Regina stopped. There was indeed a playground directly in front of them, and, in spite of the cold drizzly day, a slim dark-haired woman running enthusiastically after a giggling toddler. A girl who couldn't be more than 18 months old.

Other than her thick black hair, she looked nothing like the photos in her complaint against guy Gisborne or her later arrest records.

"That's her?" she asked, "Are you sure?"

"Yeah, apparently she went straight about two years ago. I guess we know why," Jefferson commented, "She wasn't easy to track down since then. She mostly stays off the grid. The girl I talked to who used to work the streets with her says she cleans houses, gets paid under the table, that kind of thing."

"She's trying to stay off someone's radar," Regina speculated.

"Probably ICE," he shrugged, "The working girls said she was illegal. Apparently the only reason she wasn't deported the times she got busted was one of her regulars was an immigration attorney."

"Right," she nodded, recalling that the younger woman had originally come to the country on a student visa. Internally she kicked herself for making assumptions. That was exactly what she shouldn't be doing! She should at least make an attempt to still remain impartial.

"Still want to talk to her?" Jefferson prompted.

"Yeah..." she said hesitantly.

He glanced over at her out the corner of his eye, "Want me to stick around?"

Regina nodded absently as she began hiking toward the playground.

"Yasmin al Sultan?" she asked as the woman held her hands up, prepared to catch the child as she climbed up the steps onto the play set. Her face fell as she turned and caught sight of Regina.

"Yes?" she asked warily.

"My name is Regina Mills. I was wondering if I might ask you a few questions."

Frowning, Yasmin turned around, hands out stretched, and instructed, "Jazira, come back down, Sweetheart."

"No!" the baby yelled back.

"Jazira!" Yasmin hissed, "Come to Mama, now!"

Her daughter simply giggled in response.

"Ms. al Sultan," Regina said, "If you don't mind-"

"Please," she said, glancing between Regina and her child, "I don't want any trouble."

"I just want to ask you some questions!"

"I have nothing to say to the police," she answered.

"I'm not the police."

The other woman turn to face her, "I know police when I see them."

"Well, I'm not!" Regina protested, softening her tone, "I was law enforcement, yes...for a long time, but now I'm a private investigator."

She wasn't a licensed PI, but she was doing investigative work for a private employer, so it wasn't technically a lie.

"What does that mean?"

"I work for a law firm," she clarified, "I investigate case for them."

"Well I had nothing to do with your case!" she shot back, jogging over to the bottom of the slide as her daughter slid down it laughing joyfully. She caught her at the bottom, immediately scooping her up and resting her on her hip.

"Ms. al Sultan, it's about Guy Gisborne," she said. The woman stopped in her tracks, her face going ashen.

"I don't know who that is," she whispered.

"Your assault complaint is public record," Regina informed her, trying hard not to get impatient and scare her even more, "You dated him back when you were a student at Harvard."

"That was a long time ago," Yasmin said.

"But he mistreated you?"

"I told you that was a long time ago!" she repeated, turning to walk off the playground.

"I think he might be involved in a murder!" Regina yelled after her.

The younger woman stopped again, slowly turning to look over her shoulder.

Taking four long strides to catch up with her, Regina explained, "The case I'm investigating is of woman who was killed in Misthaven, Maine four years ago."

"I don't know anything about that," Yasmin answered, fear clearly showing on her face as she started walking again.

"Yasmin, please!" Regina picked up her pace to keep stride with her, "If I could just ask you a few things about Gisborne-"

"No!" she said firmly whirling around to face her, "I don't know anything! I've never been to Maine. I don't know anything about a murder!"

"Did you ever meet his cousin?" she asked abruptly, deciding to go straight to the heart of the matter.

"What?" Yasmin asked, blinking in confusion.

"Gisborne, did you ever meet his cousin?"

"No," Yasmin shook her head, "I'm sorry. I cannot help you. Please, leave me alone!"

"Yasin, wait!" she quickly dug through her purse to pull out her notepad and pen, jotting down her cell phone number she tore a page out and held it out to her, "If you happen think of anything..."

Yasmin stared at the paper hesitant, but finally snatched it out of Regina's hand, and unceremoniously stuffed it into her pocket. With that she shifted her daughter's weight and continued walking quickly out of the park.

Regina sighed, not bothering to chase after her this time. As she watched her retreating form, she felt Jefferson step up beside her.

"So...did that give you want you were looking for?"

She narrowed her eyes in annoyance, "What do you think?"

"How the hell should I know?" he asked, "I don't what this case you're investigating is about, or what you think that woman had to do with it!"

"Yes, because that wasn't part of our agreement," Regina shot back, "My case is my business!"

"Fine, whatever," he shrugged.

With an annoyed sigh, she began hiking across the grass back toward where she'd parked her car, "I have to go."

"Heading back to Storybrooke?"

"That's also none of your business!" she said hostilely.

"Just checking to make sure I won't be seeing you around?" Jefferson asked.

"You kept up your end of the deal, I'll keep up mine," she grumbled.

"All I need to know. Pleasure seeing you again, Warden," he answered with a smug smile.

Glaring, she quickly walked away from him, eager to get back home and, maybe, make sense of what she was doing here.

* 0 * 0 * 0 * 0 * 0 * 0 *

Traffic going out of Boston delayed her, causing her to not make it home until nearly 8 that night.

She pulled into the garage, tiredly closing the overhead door behind her. Inside the house was warm and smelled of rosemary.

As she stepped into the kitchen Mary-Margaret and Henry were there packing food into containers.

"Hey!" Mary-Margaret greeted, "You're just in time, we were about to put the leftovers away."

"Mary-Margaret made chicken and mashed potatoes," Henry grinned.

"Did she?" Regina asked, stepping over to give him a hug, which he returned with all the awkwardness of a teenage boy being hugged by his mother.

"Can I go watch tv?" he asked, when she broke away. She opened her mouth, but before she could get a word in he said, "My homework's done."

"Alright, go ahead," she gave in.

Mary-Margaret laughed as he hurried away, "Would you like some dinner?"

"Thank you," Regina answered, setting her purse down on the counter and taking a seat at the table, "That would be wonderful."

"David here?"

"No he's working late."

As Mary-Margaret got a plate out and started dishing up, Regina also said, "Oh well thank you again for coming over after school. I'm glad someone could be here with Henry while I was in Boston."

"Oh no problem. I don't mind spending time with Henry," she answered, "And it gave me an excuse not to grade papers!"

Regina chuckled as the other woman set a plate down in front of her. She took a small bite as Mary-Margaret packed away the rest of the food. Shutting the refrigerator door, the short-haired teacher said, "If you wanted to repay me though I notice you have a bottle of Chablis in there…"

"Be my guest," Regina answered, "In fact, I'll have a glass with you."

"Oh, fun!" Mary-Margaret said as she opened the bottle and poured two glasses.

Sitting down at the table, she held hers up for a toast.

Regina clinked her glass unenthusiastically before taking a large sip.

"So this thing you had in Boston, how did that go?"

She shrugged, "I don't know. Probably a waste of time."

Mary-Margaret set down her glass, looking at Regina patiently.

Picking at her mashed potatoes she continued, "It's just with this case it seems like everytime I'm getting somewhere it turns out to be a dead end. I...sometimes I wonder if I'm just seeing things that aren't there."

"What kind of case is it?" Mary-Margaret asked, "David said some kind of cigarette trafficking thing?"

"That was something else," she muttered, "This...I can't really talk about it."

The younger woman nodded, "Well, don't worry. I'm sure it'll work out eventually."

Regina frowned, feeling much less certain.

She and Mary-Margaret made small talk for a little while before the other woman made excuses and departed for home. It was around that same time that she heard Henry jog up the stairs to take a shower.

Having a moment alone, she poured the rest of the wine into her glass and took a deep sip. Staring at the glass she thought over the past few days, and what she'd been doing. Taking risks to get close to someone she thought might be involved in the case, skirting the law to get information on someone else entirely, keeping things from the people in her life, telling so many lies they were starting to catch up with her...all on theories and flimsy connections. Was it really worth it?

For a moment, she allowed herself to do what she'd put a lot of effort into not doing and thought of Robin Locksley. Letting herself picture his clear blue eyes and pained, but sincere, expression.

Taking a deep breath, she admitted to herself that thinking of him made her heart speed up a little. That she definitely had developed some kind of feelings for him.

The question was though was it really reasonable to put so much faith in a man she barely knew?

* 0 * 0 * 0 * 0 * 0 * 0 *

Her ring-tone echoed through her dreams until she jolted awake, her heart racing, confused until she realized her phone was ringing on her nightstand.

Quickly rolling over, she picked it up and looked at the caller ID. It was a number she didn't recognize.

Cautiously, she hit 'answer'

"Hello?" her voice was rough as she spoke.

On the other end she heard only silence.

Sitting up, she demanded, "Hello? Who is this?!"

"Yasmin," a voice answered quietly.

Blinking in confusion, Regina thought over who she knew named 'Yasmin.' Finally, as her mind, cleared, recalling the woman she'd tracked down to Boston a week before. She hadn't learned a thing new about her in the mean time, and, in fact, had almost forgotten the encounter as she resigned herself to assisting Mulan with the bureaucratic aspects of the Locksley case.

"Ms. al Sultan?" she asked in surprise.

"Yes, is this...you're the woman from the park the other day?"

"Yes," Regina answered flipping on her bedside light, "Regina Mills."

"Right," Yasmin said quietly.

After an uncomfortable period of silence, Regina cautiously asked, "Is everything alright?"

"My daughter was fussy tonight."

"What's that?" Regina said, taken aback by the abrupt subject change.

"She was fussy. She hasn't been for a long time, but I think she has a cold," Yasmin continued absently.

"I'm very sorry to hear that."

"The car used to help when she was little so I took her out and just….drove," she said absently, "I didn't even know where I was going until I got here."

"Where are you?" Regina inquired.

"The Maine border."

Her lips dropped open, "I thought you said you'd never been to Maine?"

"I hadn't…" the other woman answered, "...not before tonight."

Regina stared at the wall of her bedroom, unsure of how to respond.

"It's funny," Yasmin said into the phone, "I'm sitting here looking at this road, at this arbitrary state line. There's nothing stopping anyone from crossing it but...in my mind it's like it kept him away from me all these years."

"Ms. al Sultan-"

"Yasmin, please."

"Yasmin," Regina corrected herself, "What road are you on?"

* 0 * 0 * 0 * 0 * 0 * 0 *

Two hours later, after a very awkward call convincing Emma to come over and stay at the house in case Henry woke up, Regina approached the sign telling her that she was approaching the New Hampshire border. Checking to make sure her handgun was in the holster at her hip within easy reach, she took a deep breath and slowly crossed over the state line.

She only had to go about five yards before she caught sight of Yasmin. The woman was standing next to an old, but very fancy BMW.

Getting out of her car Regina slowly walked over to her.

"Nice car," she commented.

"Thank you," Yasmin answered sadly, "My father bought it for me."

"That's nice of him."

The younger woman didn't answer.

"How's your daughter doing?"

"She finally asleep."

Regina nodded, letting the silence sit between them.

"My father's never met her," Yasmin said, "He doesn't even know he's a grandfather."

"Yasmin…" she asked cautiously, "...is Gisborne her father?"

The other woman turn to her, "No. I haven't seen Guy in years."

Regina waited for her to go on.

"The night the police came to our apartment, a police woman...she was a lot like you; she convinced me to press charges. I did and it seemed to help at first, but then she called to warn me Guy was out of jail. I left that night because I was afraid of what he might do."

Shifting on her feet, Regina asked, "How did the two of you meet?"

"A bar," she answered, "In Boston with my sorority sisters."

Looking at Regina, she took a breath and launched into her story, "We'd driven up from Cambridge for a concert. Went out for drinks afterward and Guy started flirting with us. They hated him, but I was intrigued. I thought it was dangerous…turned out I was right."

She went quiet after that, staring into the treeline.

"Take your time," Regina prompted gently.

"You...you have to understand. My mother died when I was very young, so my father was very protective. Because I'm Middle Eastern everyone assumes that means overbearingly so, but that's not true at all! He was gentle...doting...he gave me everything I ever wanted!" she said forcefully, "Even at the famous Harvard University everyone was jealous of this car, and that was just one of many things he bought me for my move to the United States. And all I wanted to do was everything I knew would horrify him...Guy fit that better than I could have ever dreamed. He doesn't look it, but he can be charming, at least at first. He convinced me anything was possible. That I would free with him...loved. With him I felt like there was a whole new world I'd never seen before, and things like classes and social status were all just bullshit. Pretty soon I was skipping classes to spend time with him. I thought I was bucking the system, but really all we ever did was get high and hang around his apartment or sometimes bars he frequented."

She paused again to take a break before continuing.

"Within a semester I was failing out of university. My father was furious, of course, but all I heard was that he was trying to control me. We had a fight and he threatened to cut me off, so I told him I didn't need him. I moved in with Guy and...things progressed as you'd think. Our fights got increasingly more violent, but I was determined to be right. To tell myself that he loved me and if I just...compromise...tried hard to keep him happy...everything would be alright. My pride wouldn't let me believe otherwise. In truth, it didn't matter, though. He had total control over me. My student visa expired, so he could have had me deported at any time. He threatened to often. Eventually he was making me sleep with his friends for drugs or just money. Even if I'd been willing to admit how much trouble I was in I had nowhere to go. I hadn't spoken to my father in over a year, and the few friends I made at Harvard stopped speaking to me. So, when I finally left him I ended up on the streets, and...I did what I had to."

Regina felt anger rising in her, but she controlled it and remained silent.

"Jazira's father was just another man among many. I'm not sure who exactly."

Leaning up against the car Regina said, "My son's father died before I even knew I was pregnant. Your last arrest was two years ago...you left prostitution when you found out you were pregnant, didn't you?"

She nodded, "She's my daughter. No matter how I got her."

"You don't think your father would see it the same way?"

Yasmin closed her eyes, lip quivering, "He probably would but I was too ashamed to speak to him after the last words we spoke to each other. After what I've done…"

She didn't have anything much she could say to that.

Wiping away a tear, the younger woman asked, "This woman. The one who died. Was she on the streets too?"

"Ah...no," Regina answered, "She was married. She and her husband owned a bar and they had an 18 month old son."

Clearing her throat, Regina pulled her phone from her pocket and used the search engine to pull up an old article about Marian Locksley's murder that included a picture of her.

Holding it out, she explained, "She was sexually assaulted in her home and stabbed multiple times. No one made the connection originally, but it turns out she and Guy Gisborne knew each other when they were children. Did he ever...mention her?"

Yasmin stared at the photo, her eyes blank, "No, but she's definitely his type."

Regina looked at her questioningly, so she clarified, "Guy liked Asian women, and not the East Asian look most men do. He liked dark-skinned women. Called us his Indian princesses...then he'd go from 'princess' one moment to 'bitch' the other. Sometimes when he'd get angry he'd rant about how we were all alike. All thought we were too good for him. I know, hard to believe he was also an ignorant, racist, hm?"

She nodded absently, remembering that Marian Locksley was half-Indian.

"You believe that Guy killed this woman?"

"I don't know," Regina admitted, "I'm investigating her death, but I have no proof one way or the other."

Sniffing, Yasmin asked, "She's not on his tapes?"

 **TBC...**


	25. Chapter 24

Mulan slid into the driver's side, staring out through the windshield silently, hands braced on the steering wheel. Finally, without looking over at Regina, she asked, "How did you do this?"

 _ **Two Weeks Earlier**_

Regina stared at Yasmin trying to make sure she hadn't misheard as she repeated, "Tapes?"

The other woman looked at her, alarm showing across her face, "You don't know?"

With that Yasmin pushed herself off the car pacing back and forth breathlessly.

"Yasmin," Regina stepped forward, grabbing her shoulders to steady her, "Yasmin, what tapes?"

She gaped at Regina mouth opening and closing silently as she shook her head.

"Yasmin, please!" she insisted, "What do you mean 'his tapes'?"

Shaking, Yasmin stepped away, "Guy...he liked to…"

Regina swallowed hard, waiting for her to continue.

"He liked to bring girls to our apartment sometimes and film them...doing things," tears fell down her cheeks as she spoke, "Sometimes they were drunk or high or…he'd hit them if they asked him to stop."

Letting out a shaky breath, Yasmin went on, "I tried to get him to let one go once when she told him to stop and he did but then he turn on me and...afterward he said if I ever embarrassed him like that again he'd kill me."

As she trailed off, Regina gently prodded, "Yasmin, where are these tapes?"

"I don't know," she answered, "He always kept them on this flashdrive of his so that he could watch them on his computer when he got bored."

"What did it look like?" she demanded.

"What?" Yasmin asked.

"The flashdrive!" Regina said, trying her damnedest not to get impatient, "What did it look like?"

"It was...black, I think. I don't know, it just looked like a normal flashdrive!" Yasmin answered.

"Okay," she nodded, "Okay, I'm sorry. Yasmin, listen to me, do you think he kept it?"

Shaking her head helplessly she answered, "I don't know and I don't want to know! I...I should have never told you about this!"

With that she darted toward the driver's side door of her car, but Regina jumped on the door, blocking her from opening it. She knew she was pushing too hard, but she couldn't stop now! Not when she was so close!

"Wait! Wait, Yasmin, wait!"

"Get off!" the younger woman cried out, "Please!"

"Yasmin stop!"

Giving up, she slumped against the car burying her head in her hands and sobbing.

"Yasmin," she said gently, "If we can find those tapes we can put him away!"

"You don't understand," Yasmin moaned.

"What don't I understand?"

"The things he did to those women…"

"He did to you too?" Regina guessed, "We can get justice for that too! For all of you!"

"Justice?" Yasmin looked up at her, "And what if justice is what I'm afraid of?"

Gaping at her in confusion Regina asked, "What do you mean?"

"I didn't help them," Yasmin whispered, "I saw him doing those things to them and I didn't help them. A few times he…he made me film…"

Letting out a breath, Regina put her hand on the younger woman's shoulder, "Yasmin that wasn't your fault. He abused you too. You're a victim in this-"

"And what if your justice system doesn't see it that way?" she shot back, "I'm an illegal immigrant. A prostitute! Can you look me in the eye and tell me that you're completely certain they won't say I'm guilty of a crime too?"

"I…" Regina stuttered, "...I will do everything in my power to make sure that doesn't happen."

Shaking her head Yasmin turned away.

"And so will the lawyer I work for!" Regina promised.

"I can't afford a lawyer," the younger woman said bitterly.

"She'll help you no matter what! I'm certain of that!" she insisted.

"How can you be certain?"

Contemplating it for a moment, she decided to lay it all out there, "The woman who was killed five years ago. Her name was Marian...Locksley."

Yasmin's face scrunched up in confusion, but before she could ask the obvious question Regina continued on, "Her husband was convicted of her murder. The lawyer I work for is representing him in his appeal."

"Wait," Yasmin said, "You said you thought Guy killed this woman?"

"I think he might have," she nodded.

"But her husband was arrested for the murder?" Yasmin repeated, "So the police thought he did it?"

"Yes," Regina admitted.

"But you and this lawyer are trying to prove he didn't?

Her lips dropped open for a moment before she answered, "I'm trying to find out the truth."

"What if you're wrong?" Yasmin asked, "What if it was this...Marian's husband and Guy had nothing to do with it."

"If that's the case…" she started, "...if that's the case, it means justice will still be served. You said he raped some of these women? On camera?"

Yasmin nodded wordlessly.

"Well then he should go to prison for that even if he didn't have anything to do this murder," Regina said firmly.

"Should I go to prison?" she asked.

"Yasmin-"

"Maybe I should," Yasmin sniffed, "For what I did to those women, maybe I should. But I can't...I'm all Jazira has! I can't let her end up all alone!"

Swallowing as she felt tears of empathy stinging her eyes, Regina asked, "What about your father?"

"My father?" Yasmin asked.

"You said he bought you this car? That must mean he's a man of some means?"

"Yes, he's very wealthy if that's what you're asking," the younger woman sighed.

"What if you got back in touch with him?" Regina suggested, "I don't think the police will try to go after you, but if they do he could help you and if the worst were to happen your daughter would have someone. Maybe...you could even go home? If you wanted that is."

"I would like that," Yasmin admitted, "To see him again. For him to know Jazira."

"We can help you with that."

"You would do that? This lawyer you know would? If I help you find Guy's tapes?" Yasmin asked, sounding somewhat hopeful for the first time.

"Yes!" Regina insisted.

"Well I've really told you all I know," she said, "The only other thing I can say is that I don't think Guy would just leave those tapes behind. They meant a lot to him. He once slapped me for even touching the flashdrive."

"So he'd take them with him when he moved?"

"Yes," Yasmin nodded, "We moved apartments a few times and he took them along."

"Okay," she said breathlessly, "Listen, give me a number where I can reach you and then go home. Just...go about your life as normal. Call your father if you can, but, otherwise, just...wait for me. If I find the tapes, I'll call and let you know."

Digging through her bag, she pulled out a pen and paper. Yasmin looked hesitant as she held them out to her.

"Yasmin, I promise you I won't abandon you on this!"

Nodding, the younger woman reached for the pen to scratch a phone number down onto the paper.

Thanking her, Regina sent her off with wishes of a safe drive back to Boston and a speedy recovery for her daughter, and as the tail-lights on her BMW faded into the distance Regina got back in her car and turned around, driving intently back toward Storybrooke.

* 0 * 0 * 0 * 0 * 0 * 0 *

The sun was just peeking over the horizon when she pulled into her driveway and parked next to Emma's yellow Volkswagon. Shutting the garage behind her, she went into the house, hanging her coat up in the closet.

As she walked through the house, she noticed Emma sitting up groggily from the couch in the living room.

"You're back," the blonde yawned.

Yes," Regina nodded, "I'm back. Was Henry-"

"He's still sleeping," Emma answered, "Like all sane people at this time on a Saturday."

"Well thank you for coming over, I appreciate it."

"Appreciate it enough to offer me a coffee?" the other woman asked hopefully.

Regina held down a sigh. She was humming with energy after having learned what she just had, and what she truly wanted was to get rid of the blonde as quickly as possible so that she could decide her next move. However, she also realized that she owed her for coming over in the middle of the night, so she answered, "Of course."

In the kitchen, Emma sat at the table watching her through bleary eyes as Regina put on a pot of coffee.

"So what was this emergency trip about?" she finally asked.

Regina thought for a moment, deciding that there was no harm in telling the truth...at least some of it, "A witness in the case I'm working on called me."

"I see," Emma responded, "Is it that case you had be tracking down people for last week?"

"Yes," she admitted, taking two cups out of the cabinet.

"What's this case about again?"

"You know I can't talk about that Emma!" she responded as she poured to cups of coffee.

As she accepted her cup, Emma looked at her doubtfully, "You know this is me you're talking to, right?"

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"I do this for a living," Emma answered, "Everyone has cases that get to them. You have to be careful not to get obsessive."

"I am not getting obsessive!"

"Oh, okay," the blonde answered, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

"Emma-" Regina started.

"Alright, fine!" she held her hands up defensively, "I am trying to help you, whether you believe it or not!"

"I know," Regina sighed, sipping her coffee.

"Look I won't push you on this, but just promise me you won't do anything stupid?"

"I won't," she said flatly.

"Okay," Emma nodded, bringing her mug to her lips.

"But I can I ask you for one more thing?"

"What's that?"

"Could you and August take Henry out for pizza tonight and maybe a late movie?"

Lowering her cup, Emma commented, "I don't suppose I'm allowed to ask why?"

"I need to work," she answered simply.

"On a Saturday night?"

"Yes."

Shaking her head, Emma said, "Fine! But I swear, Regina, if...just remember that Henry worries about you, okay?"

With that Emma finished her coffee in silence before tiredly heading out the door. Regina watched from the window of her office as her car chugged down the street, sinking into her computer chair once it was out of sight.

The other woman's words had their desired effect. She felt guilt gnawing at her as she contemplated what she'd been considering. It was dangerous. If she was right about Gisborne, and whatever Nottingham might have known about him, she could be putting herself in peril, and, more importantly, putting Henry at risk of losing her.

After the trauma of the riot could she really do that to her own son?

But, then again, could she really stop now? Just give up knowing what she did?

If what Yasmin said was true...she swallowed against nausea that rose in her belly at the thought.

Maybe she should just take it to the police. Call David and leave it with them. After all, they were trained to deal with this kind of thing.

Deep down, though, she knew that she didn't have enough for them to do anything about it. They'd never met Yasmin and Regina couldn't produce her. She'd asked for a phone number but not an address. Even if they could track her down, though, Regina was 100% certain that police hauling her in for questioning would make Yasmin clam up tight and they'd get nothing out of her.

No.

If these tapes existed and they proved Gisborne was a rapist, she'd have to be the one to prove it!

Taking her phone out of her purse, she typed a text message to Keith, telling herself that she'd only pursue this further if he took the bait.

 _Hey, Sheriff. Up for trying that drink again tonight?_

It was a bit too directly flirty, but Keith had never seemed to mind that before. Setting her phone down she rocked back and forth in the chair.

As she did so she fantasized that maybe he wouldn't respond and, if that were the case, she'd join Henry and August and Emma for pizza and have a quality evening with her son where she didn't give another thought to murder victims or potential rapists or wrongfully incarcerated prisoners…

It was a nice thought even if part of her knew it wasn't like her, and never would be even if she wanted it.

Her phone dinged, announcing a new text message.

Lifting it up she opened the text log.

 _You're up early today._

 _As for me...I told you before I'm up for anything you have to offer, Beautiful._

* 0 * 0 * 0 * 0 * 0 * 0 *

Regina stared in her bathroom mirror, contemplating herself blankly.

Looking down onto the counter, she turned her attention to the bottle of whiskey and contain her of pills sitting out.

She knew this plan was risky. What she was planning was illegal, not to mention dangerous. What if something happened? What if she gave him too much or he had a bad reaction? Maybe she should just get him drunk?

Shaking her head, she knew deep down that wouldn't work. Keith was a big guy and a heavy drinker. There was no guarantee he'd even get drunk enough to pass out, much less do so for enough time to allow her to look for his Gisborne's tapes. He'd promised her that his cousin was out for the evening, but, who knew how long this would take, and what if he woke up and caught her?

No, the time for overthinking this was past.

Opening up the pill bottle she shook two of her sleeping pills out onto a paper plate she'd brought up from the kitchen, used a heavy glass tumbler to crush them into power, and then bent the plate into a funnel to pour all of it into the whiskey bottle.

Making sure that the powder dissolved as completely as possible, she carefully re-corked the bottle, stuck it out of sight in her purse, and changed into a form-fitting dress that was sure to keep Keith distracted.

Quickly she went downstairs and got her longest coat out of the closet. Her attire was sure to draw questions from Emma and, possibly even Henry, so she buttoned it up from hem to neckline to cover her clothes.

Just as she finished, the doorbell rang, and Henry's plodding footsteps sounded from the staircase as he announced, "I'll get it!"

Slinging her purse of over her shoulder, she made her way to the front door where Emma and August were standing with Henry.

"Hello" she greeted the two, "Thanks for taking Henry out tonight. Henry, I'm sorry had to work, but you have fun. Try not to eat too much junkfood!"

"Aww," he teased, "But that's half the fun of you having to work!"

She laughed, pulling him to her and embracing him tightly, "I'll see you later."

He returned the embrace, backing away after she held on for just a few minutes longer than normal, "See you later. Bye Mom!"

She stood in the doorway watching him follow the couple to Emma's car and get settled inside. Finally, she forced herself to close the front door and go get in her own car to head over to Keith's.

* 0 * 0 * 0 * 0 * 0 * 0 *

She rapped sharply on this door, not allowing her hands to start shaking because she suspected if she did they'd never stop.

It swung open within moments, Keith's face looking out at her.

Forcing a seductive smile across her lips, Regina lifted the whiskey bottle out of her purse and winked at him, "I figured I'd provide the drinks this time. Let you experience what decent whiskey tastes like."

He smiled back at her with a wanton look as he stood aside to allow her into his apartment, "Oh, there's plenty of you I'm willing to taste."

It took all the effort she had not to let her disgust at that cheesy, lecherous line show. Luckily, however, she managed to turn her attention to unbuttoning her coat, and, as she slid it off, Keith was looking anywhere but her face.

"So," she caught his attention, "Are you going to get us some glasses?"

 **TBC...**

 **A/N: I promise the next update will be coming very quickly and it will resolve a lot! I just wanted to give you guys a Sunday night update. Thanks for all your continued support and sticking with me through this fic! It means more and I can ever say.**


	26. Chapter 25

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 **WARNING**

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 **WARNING: This chapter contains descriptions of sexual violence that may be triggering**

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It took two glasses of whiskey before Keith started to fade. Luckily, he was fond enough of the sound of his own voice that she managed to pretend to sip her own glass without actually swallowing any.

After nearly two hours of nodding along to his ranting and blathering, he began to sway on his feet words slurring.

She tensed as he polished off the last of his second drink, lanky body collapsing gracelessly onto the sofa next to her.

"Soooo," he drawled, leaning over her and resting his arm over her shoulders heavily, "Enjoying yourself, Darling?"

She smiled widely, "Would I be here if I weren't?"

He grinned back, and, before she had the chance to anticipate it, leaned over crashing his mouth against hers.

She gasped in surprise, and the moment her lips opened, he shoved his tongue into her mouth forcefully.

She tried to lean away, but he kept her pulled tightly against him with the arm around her shoulders.

Groaning, she lifted her hands to his shoulders and tried to push him back. He was very heavy, though.

Finally, she managed to tear her mouth away from his, his lips sliding wetly against her cheek into her neck, "Keith, stop!"

His head fell against her shoulder, hitting her collarbone painfully. After that, though, he stopped moving.

"Keith?" she prompted, nudging him. When he didn't respond, she slid her hands down to his chest and pushed back hard.

He snorted in his throat, blinked, and muttered, "What happened?"

Staring at him, she moved her hand up to his throat to check his pulse. Even though his expression was dazed and drowsy, it seemed normal.

"Keith," she said gently, "Lay down."

Humming, he did as she instructed. Dropping his empty glass clumsily onto the coffee table, and laying back across the leather couch.

Regina jumped up as he stretched his long legs out into the area where she had been sitting. She stood silently, watching him as he sunk into the upholstery.

After a couple moments, he started snoring loudly.

The first couple steps she took were cautious, but, by the time she made it to the door of one rooms, she was determined.

She pushed it open, glancing around. The bedroom was filled with various men's items, but, it occurred to her, that she didn't know for certain whether this was Keith's room or his cousin's. Turning to the next room, she opened the door and looked inside.

Both rooms had computers, but this one had a flashy screensaver of a Harley-Davidson like the one she'd seen down in the parking lot last time she was here.

Taking a breath, she hurried over to the desk. It was covered in empty beer bottles and ashtrays with cigarette butts in them. She tried to be as quiet as possible while searching through them.

She found nothing on the surface of the desk, however, other than a few scrap pieces of paper.

Moving onto the drawers, she pulled them open to quickly rummage through. Pens, batteries, motorcycle magazines, a very large bag of cocaine...but no flash drives.

Shutting the drawer she let out a frustrated breath, glancing around the room.

She wasn't sure what gave her the idea, but, before she even registered what she was doing, she found herself walking over to fling open the nightstand drawer. Behind a few loose condoms, another bag of cocaine, and an obnoxiously sized bottle of lube, were two black flash drives.

A thud echoed from outside the room, causing her to jump. She scooped up both drives, hiding them in her palm, bumped the nightstand drawer closed, and hurried out of the room.

In the livingroom, Keith had tumbled off the sofa onto the floor and was using the coffee table to push himself to his feet.

Squeezing her hand more tightly around the flash drives, she cleared her throat, "Listen, Keith, I really should be going."

He blinked at her as he stood up. Glancing at his watch, he furrowed his brow, "It's only 8."

"Yeah, I know, but my son is going to be getting home soon…" she let the sentence trail off, picking the bottle of whiskey up off the table and shoving it back into her purse, which she grabbed, along with her coat, from the peg near the door.

"Wait," Keith followed after her, steps still weaving slightly, "You came over here. This was your idea."

Holding the flash drives tightly, she looked up at Keith, slowly stepping toward the door, "I know, but...it's late. You already fell asleep."

"Oh, so that's how it is, eh?" Keith said angrily, "You're disappointed, so now you're not even going to give me a chance?"

"Keith, I need to go!" she said firmly.

He reached for her, but, luckily, his reaction time was still a little slow. She ducked under his arm, threw the door open, and rushed out toward the staircase. On her way down she could hear Keith yelling after her, but did not slow her pace until she had they key in the door to her car.

Slamming the door closed behind her, she cranked up the engine and pulled away from the curb, tires squealing.

As she sped through Misthaven she let out a breath, opening the hand clenched around the flash drives and staring at it as she slowed to stop at a red light.

* 0 * 0 * 0 * 0 * 0 * 0 *

She arrived back at her house just as Emma, August, and Henry pulled up in the blonde's yellow bug.

Quickly, she drove past them to the driveway, pressed the garage door opener and pulled inside. Getting out of the car, she quickly ducked her the garage door as it began sliding down.

"Hello," she waved to Henry, jogging across the driveway to meet him and Emma. She hugged her son tightly, "Did you have a good night with August and Emma?"

"Yeah it was fun," Henry answered, "We tried pineapple pizza, it was awesome!"

Regina laughed doubtfully, "I see...well, if you say so."

"Did you get your work done?" Henry asked.

"Yes, I think possibly," she answered cryptically. Henry seemed to accept that answer, but she noted that Emma was staring at her intently. It was, at that point, that she realized, in her haste, she hadn't buttoned up her coat, showing the revealing dress she wore underneath.

Clearing her throat, she shoved her hands in her pockets to subtly wrap the coat around her. Meeting Emma's eyes strongly, she said, "Thank you for taking him tonight."

"Hmm," the other woman hummed suspiciously, "It was no trouble. You know August and I don't mind spending time with Henry."

Nodding, Regina put her arm around Henry and firmly turned him toward the house, walking up the steps without looking back. After opening the door, Regina allowed Henry to turn around to wave to the couple. She quickly closed it, however, after they'd said their final goodbye.

With a sigh, she hung her coat and purse in the closet and turned her attention to instructing Henry to head right upstairs to shower and brush his teeth.

She followed behind him up the stairs and made her way around to her bedroom. Waiting until she heard the water in Henry's bathroom start up, she let out a breath and changed out of her fancy dress in favor of a comfortable sweater and yoga pants. She also washed the makeup off her face, and pulled her hair up into a messy ponytail.

Regina gave Henry a good amount of time after the shower stopped to brush his teeth and get dressed before she left her room and made her way around to her son's. She was pleased to find that he was already in his pajamas.

She smiled, "Ready for bed?"

"Yes, Mom," he answered.

"Alright," she nodded. As he pulled back the covers, she called his attention, "Excuse me?"

When he looked back at her she opened her arms, "Come over here and say goodnight!"

He rolled his eyes teasingly, but walked over so that she could hug and kiss him.

She turned out his light as he got under the covers, pausing for a moment to take in the sight of him before closing his door behind her.

Her feet were numb as she made her way down the stairs. Stopping in the kitchen for a small glass of water, she went to the closet to retrieve the two flashdrives from her purse.

After checking one last time to make sure Henry was asleep, she carried the flashdrives to her office.

Shutting the door firmly behind her, she took a sip of her water before pushing the first flashdrive into the USB port on her computer.

After a few long seconds, the file browser popped up showing its contents. She flipped through a few files, finding pictures of motorcycles as well as a few nudes of women, but they looked to be professionally taken...likely from porn sites.

The other files on the drive proved to be similarly mundane.

Finally, she gave up and yanked it out of the port to exchange it for the other one.

When the file on this one popped up, her hand paused on the mouse as she saw that it was just a series of video files, all with women's names.

Swallowing she began scrolling through them slowly, reading through the names. Her heart stopped when her eyes reached one titled simply 'Marian . flv"

It took her a good five minutes before she worked up the fortitude to click on it.

The video started off as with fuzzy, shaking footage. Her heart stopped when it focused on Marian Locksley.

She was sitting up against a kitchen cabinet in what Regina assumed was her house, sobbing softly as she curled into a fetal position, trying to wrap the edges of her torn blouse around herself.

"Aww," Guy Gisborne's voice said off camera, "Come on, now. That was fun, you have to admit."

His hand appeared from behind the camera, cupping the side of her face. She rolled her head away, tears falling from her eyes.

"You always did think you were too good for me didn't you?" he said, "When we were kids. What was it about my cousin that was so much different than me, huh?"

"Guy, please, just go. Please just go," she begged.

He laughed, camera rattling as he knelt down next to her and flipped it around showing his face inches from hers, "Go? Nah...this party's just getting started."

With that he grabbed the back of her neck and kissed her forcefully. She visibly winced as he forced his tongue into her mouth. After a second he cried out, pulling back from her and dabbing a spot of blood from his lips.

"You bitch!" he yelled, slapping her hard across the face. The camera shook as it crashed to the ground, landing in a position such that all that was in view was a baseboard. Off camera, however, the microphone picked up Marian's voice in the distance, "No, no….NO!"

A few muffled gasps of pain followed in the distance, along with Gisborne yelling expletives.

Hands shaking, Regina quickly closed the viewer window, not wanting to see any more. She clasped one hand over her mouth, body shaking.

This was real. This video showed Marian Locksley in the last moments of her life.

Realization sinking in, she pushed back from the desk and made a beeline for the hall bathroom. She dry heaved over the toilet a few times before spitting up a mouthful of water. After flushing the toilet, she pulled the lid closed and rested her head against her arm.

* 0 * 0 * 0 * 0 * 0 * 0 *

It was about two hours later when she opened the front door on the second knock. When he caught sight of her, David Nolan looked at her in alarm, "Regina, are you alright?"

She knew that he was referring to her bloodshot eyes and tried expression. However, she didn't comment, simply stood aside to motion him into her house.

"I need you to see something," she told him in a rough voice.

"Okay," he answered, confused, "What?"

She walked him around to the door of her home office and motioned him in, "The window on my computer. Open the file called 'Marian'."

"What?" David asked, "Why? What's this about?"

"Just….do it, okay, David? Please?"

He stared at her for a few moments, but seemed to pick up on the seriousness in her expression.

Finally, he answered, "Okay."

As he went into the office and took a seat in her chair, she shut the door and walked away quickly. She didn't want to hear that video again.

In the kitchen, she poured herself a cup of the tea that she'd been brewing when David showed up. The warm liquid soothed her raw throat, and helped her feel at least marginally human again.

She sipped her drink very slowly, but still managed to finish the entire cup before a pale, shell-shocked looking David Nolan appeared in the kitchen doorway.

There eyes met for a moment before Regina wordlessly turned to the cabinet to get out another cup, figuring he'd likely need a moment as well.


	27. Chapter 26

David sat at the counter in her kitchen clutching an undrank cup of tea as Regina laid out everything. Finding the key in her belongings that led her to the storage locker, being hired by Mulan Fa, learning about Marian Locksley's connection to Keith Nottingham and Guy Gisborne, tracking down Yasmin al Sultan, and finding the flashdrive.

Finally, when she was finished speaking the two of them sat in silence for a moment before David slowly lowered the cup to the counter, stood, and paced back and forth.

"You..." he began, but cut himself off, shaking his head and running one hand through his hair, "...I don't even...do you realize how crazy this all sounds?"

"Is that a real question?" she deadpanned.

"And this key? I mean...this all started with a mysterious key that appeared in your belongings and you don't know how?!"

She didn't answer.

"I mean...what am I supposed to do with that?" he went on.

"David, I know how it sounds," she sighed, "And, no, I still don't know how the key appeared in my things-"

"And you don't find that suspicious?!"

"Of course I do!" she shot back, "However, at this point, that's not really what's important is it? You just saw that this is real! You just saw the proof! Guy Gisborne is a rapist...and Robin Lockley's innocent."

He sighed, sitting back down in the chair, "Yeah, I saw the video...a video you just told me was illegally obtained."

"I don't work in law enforcement anymore. I'm not even a licensed PI! I came to you so that Nottingham couldn't cover this up. I wasn't sure whether to take it to your boss or to the state police-"

"You obtained it by drugging an officer of the law!" he yelled, "What the hell were you thinking, Regina? Do you know what could happen to you?! You could end up being charged with assault if anyone found out about that!"

"Well then you should probably stop yelling about it!" she hissed, ignoring the uncomfortable feeling in her stomach at being reminded that she'd broken the law.

He let out a breath, "Even if we could take this to the Misthaven DA, the chances it could be used to convict Nottingham's cousin, or get the husband's conviction overturned, are so slim! Any defense attorney would get it thrown out. It's fruit of the poisonous tree, Regina. You know that."

"So we just forget about this? We both know for certain this guy is a rapist and a murder!"

David thought for a moment, "What about this girl you found? Yasmin? Would she come forward and make a report?"

Regina sighed, "I doubt it. She's undocumented...and terrified. Even if we could get her to, though, anything she'd testify to wouldn't convict him of Marian's murder. She said she didn't know anything about that, and I believe her. It happened after she ran away and ended up on the streets."

"What about Nottingham? Does he know anything about this?"

"I'm not sure," she answered honestly, "But if he does, he's had five years to come forward and hasn't."

He sighed, "And there's nothing else you found? No witnesses? No other evidence?"

She shook her head, "It's all circumstantial...not even that, actually."

"So without those tapes there's no proof what so ever?"

"No," Regina admitted.

"Well...I hate to say it, but it sounds like there's nothing we can do," David said quietly.

"Nothing we can do?" she repeated dangerously, "He raped her! He raped and stabbed a woman to death while her baby son was in the same house, and then let her husband take the fall for it! He's a murderer! And you saw how many other vidoes there were on that drive. Who knows how many other women he may have raped? Marian Locksley might not even be the only one he killed, and you're saying there's nothing we can do?! Knowing what we know, we just let him get away with it?!"

He looked away silently.

"David," she insisted, "There has to be some way. There **has** to be some way!"

David looked back at her for several agonizingly quiet minutes, but she stared him down the entire time. Finally, bracing his hands on the counter, he stood, "Neither Nottingham nor his cousin know what you did? Searching their house? Taking the drives? Any of it?"

"No."

"You're certain?" he insisted, "What about what you used to drug him-"

"I took the bottle with me and poured it down the sink when I got home. I don't think he even knows I did anything. He was dazed, but pretty much lucid when I left. He'll just think he had one too many," she answered.

David was quiet again before finally telling her, "Alright, I'm going to take the drives. It was just the two?"

She nodded.

"Don't say anything to anyone about this," he said firmly, "Don't contact Nottingham, don't say anything to that lawyer, just...wait to hear from me."

"What are you doing to do?"

He sighed again, "I'm not totally sure yet, but I'll figure something out."

She hesitated.

"You'll just have to trust me on this, Regina. The less I say, the better."

She didn't like that. Didn't like the idea of giving up the only proof she had. However...this was David. He was her friend, and, more than that, he was good person. He cared about the truth. Above all, though, she had little choice but to trust that whatever plan he came up with was her best shot at getting the video out there.

Finally, she nodded in agreement.

Both were silent as David took the flashdrives from her office, walked out her front door to his truck, and drove off into the night.

* 0 * 0 * 0 * 0 * 0 * 0 *

That night was the last Regina heard of him for two weeks.

For the first week, she went back to Mulan's office and helped with paperwork for the appeal. Finally, on Friday, just as Mulan was awkwardly approaching her, Regina took the bull by the horns and told the lawyer that she didn't think there was any point in her coming in on Monday.

Regina spent the second week sending out a few new resumes, and cleaning every inch of her house from the attic to the garage.

Finally, on the third Monday after finding the videos, Mulan came knocking at her door.

Her hair was disheveled and sweaty, as she'd been moving old boxes back into the attic.

She paused at the sight of the younger woman standing on her doorstep looking downright shell-shocked. After swallowing hard, she told Regina that she'd gotten a call from the state police asking her to come in about Robin's case.

* 0 * 0 * 0 * 0 * 0 * 0 *

"You're telling me you didn't know anything about this?" the captain asked, "These videos were found in your apartment.!

"No!" Nottingham protested, sniffling as he continued to stare at the laptop that had been used to show him the video of his cousin and Marian Locksley, "I don't know anything about this!"

"Come on, Nottingham," the other man pushed, "You know how it goes. No one can really keep a secret. You're telling me your cousin, the person you lived with, never gave any indication? Never got drunk one night and let something slip that made you uncomfortable?"

"No!" Keith pounded his hands on the table, "I didn't know anything about this, I swear!"

"I don't believe you, Nottingham! Maybe you knew even more than that, huh? Maybe the night this happened he called you for help? Said they were hooking up and things got out of control. He swore it was an accident and you helped him because you wanted to believe it?"

"No!" he cried, "I would never have done that! I...I loved Marian. I always have."

"Yeah, I've heard somethings about that...about you harassing her and husband," the captain said, "You loved her but she rejected you. Married some other guy and wanted nothing to do with you. That made you angry, didn't it? Maybe you said something to your cousin about it? Maybe you two planned this together and you were just smart enough not to let yourself be filmed?"

"That's not true. I would never have hurt Marian!" Nottingham sobbed into his hands, "Oh God, it wasn't supposed to be this way. If she'd been with me this never would have happened!"

"What wasn't supposed to be this way?" the captain pushed, "What went wrong?"

"I'd have been so much better for her," he continued to moan, staring into the computer screen, "That son of bitch didn't protect her! If she'd been with me I'd have protected her! I'd kill him! I'll kill both of them!"

With the last declaration he rose from the chair, tossing it into the wall.

"Nottingham, I suggest you calm down right now!" the captain ordered, "You're in a lot of trouble here. Do you understand that? An anonymous tip is called in about your cousin, whom you're living with...the sheriff! And you're telling me you had no idea what he was up to? No idea who this anonymous tip might be?"

"No," Keith answered, tangling his hand in his greasy hair, "I don't know anything about this. I didn't know Guy did this!"

"You didn't help him cover it up?"

"No."

"Where were you that night?"

"I don't know, man, it was five years ago. I...I might have been on duty, I don't know."

"Well, you'd better hope so," the captain answered, "That's all I can say."

With that the tape of the interrogation stopped.

Regina and Mulan, along with the other people in the room, stared at the screen. The Misthaven district attorney was the first to speak, "Do we believe his story?"

The captain shrugged, "Records from the Misthaven Sheriff's Department show that he was on duty at the time of the murder, responding to a call on the other side of town. So far it seems like he has a pretty solid alibi."

"So Gisborne acted alone? For certain?"

"Other than the victims, he's the only one visible in any of the videos recovered from Nottingham's apartment. He's the only one we have any evidence against."

"You arrest him?" the DA asked.

"Yeah...we showed him the tapes and basically admitted to it all."

"He confessed?"

The captain nodded.

"Did he say his cousin was involved?"

"No,"

"What about the husband? Any evidence he may have conspired with Gisborne?"

Regina bit her lip against the urge to make a snarky comment about how convenient that would have been since this was the very DA who convicted him.

"Gisborne says he acted alone and there's no evidence Gisborne and Locksley's husband even knew each other," the captain asked, "Looks like you got the wrong man, counselor."

Looking like he'd swallowed a live toad, the DA asked, "What about this anonymous tip? We find out who that was?"

"No," the captain answered, "It was made from a payphone in Portland."

"There's still payphones in Maine?" he DA demanded.

"A few," the other man nodded, "And this one just happened to be in an area where there aren't many security cameras."

Smiling inside, Regina made a mental note to thank David next time she saw him. Though, how he managed to get the flashdrives back into Nottingham's apartment, she could only imagine…

"I don't like unknown variables," the DA complained, interrupting her thoughts, "I'd like this tipster found!"

"It doesn't matter if whoever made the tip is found or not," Mulan interrupted, "This new evidence exonerates my client!"

"That's for a judge to decide, Ms. Fa," the DA snipped, looking at her condescendingly.

She looked up at him, fixing him with a hard look, "Are you actually saying you're going to fight to keep a man you wrongfully convicted in prison, when the actual perpetrator has confessed and you have video evidence of the crime as it's being committed?"

He didn't answer, so Mulan did for him, "I thought not. I expect my client's conviction will be vacated and he'll be released as soon as possible."

"We'll call your office when we have a court date," the man said bitterly, gathering up his briefcase as he made his way out of the building.

After the DA left, Mulan and the police captain discussed a few things that Regina did not hear. Her entire mind was numb up until they made it to the parking lot and Mulan shut the door to her car behind her and asked, "How did you do this?"

Regina turned to her, "Me? What makes you think-"

"Because I'm not an idiot!" the younger woman cut her off, "Just...if you can't tell me details, fine, but…how did you….?"

She sighed, "I didn't do anything."

"You're really not going to be honest with me?" Mulan asked, "After everything, we still can't trust each other?"

"That's not what I meant," she answered, "I mean I didn't actually do anything all that good. This whole time I don't know if I ever really believed…I don't know. I didn't know what to believe...and I wasn't crusading for justice I was...I don't know what I was doing."

"What you did," Mulan corrected, "Was solve a case I've been working on for years and had gotten no where on! You revealed a wrongful conviction and you solved a murder. You got justice for my friends when I couldn't!"

Tears were streaming down the other woman's face by the time she finished speaking. Turning to her Mulan threw her arms around Regina and squeezed her tightly, "I don't think I'll ever be able express how grateful I am."

Regina patted her back awkwardly.

Sniffing, Mulan pulled back and wiped her eyes on the heels of her hands. Smiling she started up the car, "Come on! Let's go to the prison."

"No!" Regina protested, causing the other woman to look at her questioningly, "I need to go home."

"What?" Mulan asked, "But...don't you want to tell Robin the news?"

"My son's going to get home from school soon, he'll be expecting me," she answered.

The other woman stared at her incredulously.

"Besides," Regina shrugged, "You're his friend, I'm sure it'll mean more coming from you."

"I'm not sure about that."

Regina ignored the comment, "Look if you need, I can call a cab…"

"No," Mulan shook her head, "I'll take you home if that's what you want."

She simply nodded in response.

The ride to her house was quiet up until they arrived in her driveway where the lawyer once again asked if she was certain she didn't want to come to the prison, and Regina answered that she was.

She watched the younger woman's silver Kia drive down her street from the front window before checking her watch. It was another hour before Henry would be getting home, but, just in case, she scribbled a note from him on a piece of paper from her printer and left it on the kitchen counter telling him she'd be back later.

* 0 * 0 * 0 * 0 * 0 * 0 *

"Robin? Robin?!"

Blinking at the glass, Robin looked into the face of his attorney and long-time friend asking dumbly, "Yeah?"

"Did you hear what I said?"

"Um...no...I mean yes," he hesitated, swallowing hard as he shifted the phone against his ear, "What did you say?"

"I said we found who killed Marian-"

"Yes, I heard that!" he snapped, cutting her off.

"Okay," she nodded, licking her lips nervously.

"You...you said it was Keith Nottingham's cousin?" he asked, his thoughts still fuzzy.

"Yes," she answered.

"But...why?"

She shook her head, "Well, know that they knew each other as children, and that it looks like he's abused other women in the past. Apparently he has jealousy issues"

"So, he murdered her over...what? Some kind of old rivalry?"

"It looks like it."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah, he confessed..." she told him, pausing before continuing, "...but even if he hadn't we know it was him because we found a video."

Robin stared at her through the glass, a cold pit settling in his stomach. He had to take several deep breaths before he was able to rasp out, "A video?"

Mulan nodded, "He videotaped what happened night."

"There's a video...of Marian being killed?" Robin asked.

"Yes."

The phone receiver shook in his hand for a few moments before he lowered it from his ear, clutching it tightly as he pressed the back of his hand to his forehead. After a few moments he clenched his other hand into a fist, and slammed the receiver against the glass repeatedly, yells escaping his throat with each blow.

"Robin!" Mulan cried into her receiver, "Robin you need to calm down! Robin!"

A corrections officer appeared behind him, whacking the back of his chair with a nightstick and pressing it across his chest to force him from the chair.

"Wait!" she yelled, "Wait! Please! The warden told you what I was here to discuss. Just, please give him a minute!"

The CO glared before lowering the stick, allowing Robin to sink back into the chair with a cough.

"One more outburst, he goes into confinement! No exceptions!" the CO ordered.

Mulan nodded quickly, as he reluctantly stepped away with one last glare. Once he was a safe distance away, she pointed through the glass at the receiver, urging Robin to pick it back up. As he caught his breath, he did.

"Robin, I know this is difficult but you need to keep it together!"

"Keep it together!" he asked incredulously, tears welling in his eyes, "He killed her!"

"I know," she nodded.

"She's gone and...five years!"

"I know."

"Five years! My son...five years!"

"I know," Mulan whispered, "But it won't be much longer. I promise you, I'll get you out of here as soon as I can, so you'll be able to see Roland."

He sniffed into his sleeve, "He was just a baby."

She nodded sadly.

Dropping his arm helplessly, Robin said, "What are the chances he'll even remember either of us?"

She shook her head, tears falling down her cheeks, "You can't think like that. Nothing can change what happened, but you'll be out soon and you'll be able to see your son. You can get to know him again and...you can make sure he knows how much his Mama loved him."

He nodded, "I'm really getting out of here?"

"I swear it," Mulan said firmly, "You're going to get a second chance to be there for your son. and Marian will have justice. It may still hurt, but that's what we wanted."

He wiped away a few years and nodded, perking up slightly, "Yeah, you're right."

She let out a sigh of relief sinking into her seat.

"I can't believe you actually found the truth," he said in wonder, "How did you even do it?"

She bit her lip, glancing away at the question.

Robin's brow wrinkled in confusion, "Mulan? What is it?"

"Well" she said slowly, "the truth is it wasn't me."

"What are you talking about?"

"Someone else figured it out."

"Who?" he asked, "The police?"

"No," she responded, "It's actually someone you know..."

 **TBC... :p**


	28. Chapter 27

Brown and orange leaves squelched under her boots as Regina made her way across the cemetery. She hugged her coat more tightly around herself as she shivered from a gust of wind.

It took a while to find the one she was looking for. She knew that it was this cemetery, but not exactly what plot, so she had to simply go through row by row.

Finally, she stopped suddenly in front of the one she'd been looking for. It was simple. Carved granite with lotus flowers around the edges and elegant print:

Marian DuBois Locksley  
Beloved Mother  
1979-2012

She wasn't sure how long she stood staring at the slab. Regina wasn't a religious person. She never had been. She'd never been convinced of the idea of an afterlife.

At this moment, though, she felt overwhelming pressure to find just the right words as if they would actually be heard by the woman whose grave she was standing beside.

Should she introduce herself? Explain how and why she was here? That could take a while!

Clearing her throat she said, "Hello. I um...you and I never met but I...I feel like I've gotten to know a lot about you recently. About...your family...about what happened to you."

She stopped, remembering the nauseous feeling that had hit her when she first saw Guy Gisborne's video. Realizing that it had all been true. That a young mother was brutally raped and murdered, and the person responsible got away with it.

Swallowing hard, Regina went on, "It was really...disgusting, terrifying, unfair...there aren't really enough words to describe it."

She shivered again, shifting on her feet.

"Gisborne is going to prison. From the amount of evidence we found it's unlikely he'll ever get out. I know that doesn't fix what happened, but he'll have to answer for what he did and your son will..." the words stuck in her throat, "...not be alone."

She trailed off, looking up to stare into the treeline, "I wonder how you'd feel about how I got involved in this case to begin with."

That was a very uncomfortable thought. One she'd been contending with ever since she saw the video.

This was a very awkward scenario. She was standing at the grave of a woman whose murder she helped solve, but not for noble reasons.

She felt the ghost of Robin's lips on hers her last day at the prison.

She'd gotten here, not because of some moral urge to do the right thing, but because she'd been terrified of the idea that she could feel the way she did about a rapist and a murder.

Well, now she knew that, in fact, she never had, and she felt more uncomfortable than ever.

She sighed, "The truth is I got involved with this case for selfish reasons. There's no excusing that. I always felt like this life was pretty much it, but well...wherever you are, I hope you're at peace."

With that she turned away from the headstone and hurried back to her car.

The drive home was gray and slightly drizzly. She was grateful to step back into the safety and warmth of her house.

After hanging up her coat and purse, Regina found Henry at the kitchen table snacking on a cookie.

Looking up he swallowed hard, wiping crumbs from his mouth, "Mom! Hi."

He put the cookie down on the plate and hastily said, "I only had one, I promise. I won't spoil my dinner."

She laughed lightly, feeling tears prickling her eyes.

"It's fine, Sweetheart," she said, opening her arms and instructing, "Come here."

Studying her, Henry walked over and stepped into her embrace without question.

She squeezed him tightly, breathing him in. He smelled of Axe body spray, and, faintly, of chocolate. However, if she closed her eyes she could almost sense the faint undertones of the sweet baby smell he used to have.

"Mom, you okay?" he asked, quietly.

Pulling back she took a deep breath, "Yes. Yes, I'm fine. Now, how about we start dinner?"

She let Henry pick what to eat that night, and he chose spaghetti and meatballs. He seemed to sense her mood because he stayed by her side helping her cook instead of asking to go watch tv or play videogames as he usually would.

She couldn't even be bothered to feel guilty about worrying him, though. As she rolled out meatballs and stirred marinara sauce, she simply let herself relax and be at peace for a moment.

She and Henry prepared spaghetti, meatballs, broccoli, and thick slabs of Texas toast, which they ate at the table. Regina didn't have much of an appetite, but she ate her entire meal, revealing in Henry's company as he revealed in garlic and tomato.

She was stacking the last of the dishes in the drying rack when her phone buzzed on the counter. Drying her hands on a towel, she picked it up.

The caller ID flashed 'Mulan'

She swiped to answer, "Hello?"

"Regina, it's me."

"Hi," she answered, "Is everything alright?"

"Yeah," the other woman answered, "I just got home from the prison, actually."

She paused for a long moment before asking, "How did it go?"

"It was...difficult," she said.

Regina waited for her to continue.

"It's a lot of take in," Mulan finished quietly.

"Yeah," Regina nodded.

After a long pause, the younger woman said, "He was happy, you know? When I told him about...everything. He was happy."

She cleared her throat, "Yeah, well I'd imagine he would be happy to learn he's getting out of prison."

Mulan was quiet for what felt like an eternity before saying, "He was happy about everything, Regina."

The implication was clear in her voice, but Regina simply answered, "Well, that's good. Congratulations."

"Yeah," Mulan deadpanned, "Well anyway, I expect to hear from the Misthaven DA pretty soon about when a date is set to review the case. Do you want me to call you when I get word?"

She paused with the dishtowel clutched in one hand. This was the moment of truth. What was she going to do now? Part of her knew it'd be crazy to come this far and turn back now, but the reality of it felt like being asked to jump off the edge of a cliff!

Finally, she found her voice and answered, "Yeah, I'd like that."

* 0 * 0 * 0 * 0 * 0 * 0 *

Regina squeezed her hands together, making an effort not to fidget in her seat. Mulan was finishing up presenting her case for vacation of Robin Locksley's conviction to the court, but she could barely hear the argument being made. Her heart felt like it was about to beat out of her chest.

She let out a breath, shaking her head at herself. Why was she so nervous? This felt almost like the first day of school...or a first date.

She quickly shoved that thought down, trying not to instinctively look over to the defendant's chair where Robin was sitting. She could barely see him through the crowd anyway. The courtroom was packed. A high-profile murder case being overturned was big news in a small town, so as many journalists and spectators as the room could fit had piled in.

Shifting her hands again, grabbed up her purse and rose from her seat. Moving quietly, she pushed the door open just enough to slide out into the marble hallway.

Taking a deep breath, Regina groaned in annoyance. She hated feeling so out of control of her emotions like this! She hadn't felt this overwhelmed since...since Daniel died.

With a sigh, she continued down the hall out to the front steps. It was sunny and clear outside, but very chilly. She'd worn her short-sleeved red dress that day. It was made of silky material that the wind easily cut through. She wrapped her arms around her middle to try to conserve some warmth. The dress wasn't really appropriate for the weather. When she'd picked it that morning she'd told herself that she was simply trying to dress nicely because she was going to court, but she knew it was because she felt good in it, and it made her look good.

She let out another rueful breath. Apparently she had to face it, you couldn't be in love with a guy without feeling something.

She felt her lips drop open at the thought. It was the first time she'd actually admitted it to herself, and she knew the thought was a little crazy.

Was she really in love with Locksley? She barely knew him. She couldn't deny that she felt something for him, and, at least as far as she knew, the feeling was mutual.

Slowly walking between the columns at the front entrance of the courthouse, she tried to organize her thoughts. The truth was that this entire situation had been crazy from start to finish. How they came into each other's lives, how they got to know each other at just the right time, how she ended up getting to know Marian Locksley even after her death, how it lead to the truth about her murder. Really their feelings for each other were just icing on the insane cake!

As she made it to the edge of the steps, she looked out down the street. Suddenly, she felt the hair on the back of her neck begin to stand up.

Turning, she found herself face to face with a slight figure standing against the courthouse wall.

As serpentine smile crossed his lips as he said smoothly, "Well, well, well...what a coincidence."

Regina stared, her mind struggling to catch up to what she was seeing. His long floppy hair had been cropped into a clean buzz cut and he was dressed in a stylish suit, but his sharp features were unmistakable.

"Gold?" she finally managed to gasp out.

He smiled. "Warden, how lovely to see you again."

Lips falling open, she glanced around, "What the hell are you doing here?!"

With a shrug, he answered easily, "I have some business at the courthouse today. And yourself?"

"Business?" she repeated incredulously, "What do you mean business? Why are you here, Gold? How are you here?!"

"Ah," he laughed, taking a puff off the cigarette clutched between his finger, "You mean why am I not still a guest of your former correctional institution?"

She didn't answer.

Flicking away his cigarette butt, he went on, "Early parole."

"Early parole?" she repeated, "You killed three people!"

He smirked, "There were extenuating circumstances, though. Self-defense, to be exact."

"Self-defense?" Regina asked, "That's not what you told me!"

"I was shaken," he answered, "Those men had just attacked me-"

"You said it was because they raped Belle!"

"Did I?" he asked, "I don't recall saying any such thing."

He, of course, hadn't flat out said it, but the implication had been more than clear. Gold didn't seem bothered, though, "However, if they were responsible for that reprehensible act...clearly they were dangerous. I had no choice but to defend myself."

"You expect anyone to believe that?" Regina shot back angrily.

He chuckled, "Well the state's attorney did."

"The state's attorney?"

"Yes," Gold answered, "Though, I'm sure, the evidence and my testimony that I provided for his case may have...swayed...his opinion."

"What case is that?"

Gold looked at her, "The riot, of course."

"The riot?" Regina asked in surprise, thinking back over the last she'd heard of the investigation. Specifically that Gold's son was the prime suspect, "You mean you gave evidence against your own son?!"

The small man's expression turned dark as he hissed, "My son had nothing to this!"

Taking a few agitated steps, he seemed to slowly calm himself. Turning back to her, he fixed her with a piercing look, "I'm not certain I'm supposed to be discussing this, but...you seem the sort who can keep a secret, so I'll go ahead and let you know that you'll probably hear on the news within a few days that a young man by the name of Malcolm Gold has been arrested as the main conspirator in the tragic riot."

"Malcolm Gold?" Regina asked.

"Malcolm Gold Jr." he answered, "The result of my father's affair with a much younger woman in the early 90s, I'm afraid."

"You have a brother?" Regina asked, "That wasn't in your file."

Gold smirked again, "Well let's just say we aren't exactly close."

"Close enough for him to try to break you out of prison, though?"

"Is that what they told you?" the slight man asked, "My, my they really have kept you in the dark."

"What are you talking about, Gold?!"

"The riot was not an attempt to set me free," Gold explained, "Quite the contrary, in fact. I'm quite certain I wasn't supposed to survive the night."

"So your brother planned a riot in an attempt to kill you?" Regina asked, skeptically, "That seems a bit overdramatic!"

Gold laughed, "You were aware, Warden, that I wielded a certain level of...influence, in your fine institution."

"I had an idea," she answered dryly.

"Well," he went on, "I still had some outside as well due to my former...business ventures."

She crossed her arms, knowing full well he was referring to his organized crime activities.

"Apparently my dear brother thought something dramatic was necessary to break that influence," Gold shrugged, "And, Mr. Pendragon was very interested when I brought this to his attention."

Regina's jaw dropped, recalling her contentious visit to Arthur Pendragon's office in Augusta, "You're his main witness? And he got you off for three murders in exchange for testimony."

"Of course not," Gold answered, with feigned shock, "As I mentioned, that unfortunate event was self-defense. Mr. Pendragon helped me get justice in that regard and I helped him get justice in turn."

Taking a deep breath, Regina shook her head in disgust, "So that's it? You play everyone and end up getting off scott free?"

Gold laughed, "Come now, Warden, it's not as bad as all that. It worked out well for you, didn't it?"

Her brow wrinkled, "What are you talking about, Gold?"

Glancing at the courthouse, he asked, "You are here for Robin Locksley's hearing, right?"

"How did you-"

"It's all over the news," he anticipated her question.

"Why would you think I'm here for that?" Regina asked, feeling apprehensive. She'd made sure to get across to Mulan that she wanted her involvement kept out of the press, and, so far, all the stories she'd heard were about what the state police discovered based on an anonymous tip.

Gold smiled enigmatically, "Just a hunch."

"A hunch?" she repeated, "What are you getting at, Gold? Why are you interested in the Locksley case? Is that why you're here?"

"I already told you, Warden, that I'm here to preserve my testimony for the conspiracy trial. However, I have been following the case very closely. I have an interest in it."

"What interest?" Regina asked, feeling nervous. For weeks she'd looked for any link between Gold and Locksley, but hadn't found one. Had she missed it, though?

Gold shifted, wrapping the collar of his coat more tightly around himself, "Let's just say I met a lot of people through my business...some of which aren't as discrete as they should be, nor as loyal."

"Quit speaking in riddles!" Regina snapped, "There's obviously something you want to tell me, so tell me!"

"Not at all," Gold answered, "Although, hypothetically speaking, I may have worked with a certain man off the books. Real low life type...I really should have known better. He was found of the drink, and of drugs. He also liked to brag about his family connections to law enforcement and how, as such, he'd learned how to game the system in his favor."

"Gisborne?" Regin asked, "You knew Gisborne?"

"I didn't say that," he answered, "Though he certainly does seem like the unscrupulous sort."

"I guess you'd know," she said, voice hard.

He laughed, "I imagine if you asked some of his former employers you might find that he had sticky fingers."

"So he conned you?" she asked.

Gold's sour face at the wording was answer enough, "Well I made sure justice caught up with him."

"Justice?" Regina asked.

He shrugged, "As I said, the man bragged."

Her jaw dropped, "So you knew that he killed Marian Locksley? And you never came forward?"

Gold laughed, "You should know better than that, Warden. I didn't have any proof...only what I'd heard."

"And that's how you justify it?" Regina asked.

He pinned her with a look, "I think I more than did my part."

"Oh, did you?"

"Well, the fact that you're here today is proof of that," Gold answered.

"The fact that I'm here? What do you mean by that?"

"Just that I suspect you put my parting gift to good use."

"Your…" Regina started, the realization of what he was referring to hitting her mid-sentence,"...it was you? You put that key in my things?"

He didn't answer.

She swallowed, "Why? Why would you give it to me? I had nothing to do with any of this!"

Staring straight at her, he answered, "I think we both know that's not true, Warden. You're a smart woman, but you're not as subtle as you think."

A cold, nauseous feeling settled into her stomach as the implication washed over her. Smiling easily, Gold glanced at his watch.

"Well, I should really be getting back. Best of luck to you, Warden," he said, glancing her up and down, "You look lovely."

She stood numbly as he walked away. Swallowing hard she let what she'd just learned turn over in her mind.

Gold had orchestrated all of this to settle an old personal vendetta, and, on top of all of that, he was free. Managed to manipulate his way into avoiding charges after killing three people! Because he'd duped everyone...he'd duped her and she'd played right into his hands!

He'd played her like a fiddle because she'd let her emotions show when she shouldn't have.

Glancing down at herself, she recalled how he'd looked at her, his comment about how she looked, and felt sick.

Her breath was heavy as her feet carried her down the steps. Moving swiftly she made her way across the parking lot to where her car was parked. Her hands shaking as she dug her keys out of her purse.

She was just pulling the car door open when a voice called from behind her, "Regina!"

Turning, she saw Mulan running across the parking lot to her, "I saw you leave the courtroom. Where do you think you're going?"

"Home," Regina answered, tossing her purse into the car.

"Now?" the other woman asked incredulously, "But...we just got out of court! The judge granted our motion to vacate the conviction."

"Congratulations," she said, moving to slide into the driver's seat.

"Wait!" Mulan jumped in front of her, pushing the door closed.

Regina took a deep breath, saying evenly, "Move out of my way!"

"Regina just wait-"

"Get out of my way now! I need to go!"

"Regina I told him!"

"What?"

"I told Robin," Mulan said, "I told him everything...about how you helped. He knows."

Regina stood silently.

"He wants to see you," Mulan said looking at her hopefully.

Taking a ragged breath, Regina answered, "Well I don't want to see him."

With that, she shoved the younger woman away from the car door, pulled it open, and got inside.

"Regina!" Mulan said, knocking on the window, "Please just wait-"

She didn't wait, though. She simply threw the gearshift into park and tore out of the parking lot.

 **TBC...**

 **Author's Note: Please don't kill me! The final chapter will be up soon and, I promise, Robin and Regina will be reunited.**


	29. Final Chapter

**Author's Notes: Well folks here we are. Writing this fic has been a long journey that has included ups, downs, and heartbreak when it comes to our favorite couple. I'm so glad to have done it though, and am grateful for everyone who has supported me along the way.**

 **Thanks, especially, to Imagine_OQ for the great prompt that inspired this fic, pt159 for helping be organize my plot into something that made sense, and to ale_nena for her constant support and friendship. Finally, to all of my readers for sticking with me through the process.**

 **I understand this ending may be controversial, but I think it feels right for this story which has been unique for an OQ fic from the beginning.**

 **Thanks again, everyone. I love all of you!**

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Regina leaped to her feet as she watched the soccer ball hit the back of the net. A smile spread across her lips at the exuberant look on her son's face as his teammates mobbed him with hugs and high-fives. She was so happy to see this.

The craziness of the past year had taken a lot of her energy and attention, but she was finally starting to fully appreciate the change in him.

Henry had been a shy, lonely kid for a long time who spent most of his time with videogames, books, and comics. However, since starting 7th grade, he'd made some close friends and began to expand his interests, although, she knew that, at heart, he was still a dreamer.

Taking her seat, she watched settled down to watch the rest of the game.

In the end, Henry's team lost 2-5. By then the cold metal was chilling her through the material of her slacks. Spring was just beginning to emerge, but this time of year was still biting in Maine.

Rising, she made her way down the metal bleachers to wait for Henry to finish saying goodbye to his teammates.

With that he jogged over to her. She smiled encouragingly, "Good job, Henry. I saw you score a goal."

"Yeah, but we didn't win, though," he answered.

"It doesn't matter," she answered as they started walking away from the pitch, "You did the best you could, and you're improving."

He shrugged in his usual incomprehensible teenager way, but continued walking along beside her.

"So what should we make for dinner tonight?" Regina asked.

Glancing over at her, he answered slowly, "What are the options?"

She laughed at how well her son knew her, "Well I was thinking chicken cacciatore."

"Okay," he shrugged again.

"And maybe we can make some peach crumble for dessert?" she added casually.

He instantly perked up at that and enthusiastically said, "Yeah!"

She laughed, shaking her head fondly at how much he was still her little boy.

As they got further away from the sports fields they drifted onto the walking trail, silently agreeing to walk that way around before heading home.

They hiked silently up the first hill, Henry reaching the top a few moments before her. Other than the sports area the park was mostly empty that afternoon, so the sound of shrieking laughter drew her attention.

Glancing down over the hill, she stopped instantly in her tracks at the sight that greeted her.

The little boy looked bigger than she remembered, and the man holding him was different as well. His hair was shorter, shorn into a more modern looking style and dressed in dark jeans, a grey shirt, and leather jacket...all of which looked like they fit like a glove compared to baggy prison jumpsuits.

"Mom!" Henry's voice cut through her musings, startling her.

Whipping her head around to him, she asked, "Yes?"

Smirking he said, "You were staring."

Feeling herself flush, she shot back, "I most certainly was not!"

Her son looked at her skeptically, so she went on, "I know that man."

Henry looked down at where Robin Locksley was playing with his son, "From where?"

She paused for a good long moment before answering, "My old job."

"Oh," he answered, "Well should we go say 'hi'?"

She knew this was another decisive moment, but, this time, she didn't have the chance to make it because as his son ran around him, Robin turned toward them, doing at obvious double-take before looking right at her.

Glancing over at Henry, Regina stood up straight, leading him down the hill.

Robin's son, who had been running around chasing a soccer ball, stopped at the sight of two new people approaching. He looked up at them warily, eyes wide, and stepped a bit closer to his father.

She couldn't help but frown to herself at his obvious skittishness. The poor kid had been through a lot, and, obviously, still wasn't completely over it.

Stopping, she said, "Hello Robin."

Looking at her through clear blue eyes, he quirked his lips slightly before replying, "Hello to you."

They stood quietly staring at each other, caught in the surrealism of the moment until Henry interrupted by loudly clearing his throat. Rolling her eyes, Regina mused that there were some down-sides to his new found confidence. However, she shifted on her feet, "This is my son, Henry. Henry this is Robin Locksley."

"Hi," Henry answered.

"Hello, Henry. Nice to meet you," Robin said, holding out his hand for Henry to shake, "And this is my son, Roland."

With a coaxing hand on his shoulder, Roland slowly stepped out from behind his father's leg, looking shyly at Henry.

"Hey," Henry said to him, "Nice ball."

Glancing at the soccer ball that he was holding in two small hands, Roland answered, "Thank you."

Jumping in Regina explained, "We just came from Henry's soccer game."

"Oh," Robin smiled, "Roland's just begun to be interested in football...soccer."

Henry laughed, "Yeah, same with me. My friend Zach got me into it recently, so I had to learn a lot quickly. Maybe I could show you a few things, kid?"

Thinking it over, Roland nodded and responded, "Okay."

Glancing up at each other, Robin and Regina shared a smile at their sons' exchange before the irony of the moment set it. The fact that the last time they'd seen each other they'd been prisoner and warden, and now were simply two parents.

Ignoring the awkwardness, though, Henry lead Roland away from the two adults, showing him how to dribble the ball.

Looking back at her, Robin cleared his throat awkwardly, "Looks like our boys have hit it off."

"Looks like it," Regina nodded, watching as they played together.

After a few moments of awkward silence, the former inmate gestured to a nearby bench and asked, "Did you want to sit down?"

"That sounds nice," she agreed, allowing him to lead her over to it and taking a seat next to them.

The two watched their sons playing for a few moments before he finally said, "So are we going to continue to ignore the elephant next to us?"

Regina sighed, but answered firmly, "No, no I'm not trying to do that."

Turning to him, she looked at him expectantly.

"Mulan told me that you helped clear my name," Robin said.

Months ago she would have argued with that characterization, but didn't bother this time, "Yes."

"I don't..." he started, trailing off, "...I don't even know what to say. How to say what it means to me."

She shook her head, "You really don't have to."

"Of course, I do!" he argued, "You're the reason for everything I have. My freedom, my son...my life. I can't ever thank you enough."

"It's really okay."

"You were there the day my conviction was overturned," he went on, drawing her attention, "I saw you. You were at the back but...I saw."

"Oh," she answered simply, "I thought Mulan must have told you."

He waited a moment before answering, "She told me you left."

Regina glanced over at him but didn't comment.

"She said you told her you didn't want to see me."

"I did say that," she admitted.

He nodded, waiting few moments again before asking, "Was it because of what happened? What I did your last day at the prison?"

"No...yes," Regina answered shaking her head, "It wasn't just that. It was...it's a long story."

He looked at her quietly, but didn't push. She knew that she couldn't just let it the subject drop at that. She owed him an explanation.

Taking a deep breath, she turned to face him and began her story, "Do you remember inmate Gold?"

"Gold?" Robin asked, "Yeah, sure."

Nodding, Regina launched into her story, explaining everything from how she accidentally came to work with Mulan on Marian's case and how she found out that Gold set the whole thing in motion.

By the end he was staring at her in disbelief, "You're serious?"

Regina nodded, "Unfortunately, yes."

"So Gold helped get me out of prison...in order to get back at Guy Gisborne over some organized crime thing?"

"That was basically what he said."

Looking forward he sat silently before finally deciding, "Well that puts things in somewhat different light, but, at the end of the day the outcome is still the same. I have my son back and Gisborne got what he deserved for what he did to Marian."

Licking her lips, Regina said, "Robin I'm sorry about what happened to your family. I never told you that."

"Thank you," he answered, "But you already did way more than anyone could expect to help us."

She chuckled mirthlessly, "You mean Gold did."

"No," he said, "I mean you."

Feeling the intensity of his gaze, she glanced away, "Well...you're welcome. And, I'm sorry for running out on you that day at the courthouse. It was just...I needed some time to process everything. The fact that Gold manipulated me like that…"

"Gold manipulated a lot of people," Robin said, "But at least something good came out of it this time."

"Yeah," she nodded, looking back at his son, who was smiling widely as he ran after Henry, "How has your son been since you've been back?"

"It's been an adjustment," Robin told her, "John said he would talk about me sometimes-"

"He did," Regina agreed, "I saw him once with Mulan. He mentioned you then. He said he missed you."

Robin smiled sadly, "The truth was he didn't remember me. I think he only knew me as an idea. Those first few days he was...scared."

She felt her heart ache at the very idea.

"But we've come a long way," he went on, "We just recently moved out of John and Trina's. That's been hard on him too, though. Their farm was all he ever knew, so moving in a small apartment...it's a big change."

"He'll get used to it," Regina told him, "Kids are resilient. And he'll get to know his father. That's important."

Robin looked at her, "Thank you."

The two sat quietly side-by-side for a little while longer until Robin spoke again, "Listen I'm sorry."

She turned to him, "You're sorry?"

"For what I did that last day at the prison. I didn't mean to...it seemed like a good idea at the time."

"Oh," she answered, "So you're saying you regret it?"

He looked at her in surprise, answering measuredly, "Well, I didn't want to offend you."

"Robin," she said, catching his gaze firmly, "I wasn't offended. It happened, and...it meant something to both of us, I think."

"Yeah," he said quietly.

She cleared her throat, "I'm not trying to put you on the spot, though. I get that you were in prison and...expected to be there indefinitely. All I'm saying is that I don't expect anything from you-"

"Regina," he breathed, reaching up to brush his hand over her cheek. Her lips fell open, words dying on her lips as his thumb brushed over her ear, and he slowly leaned over to meet her lips. Her eyes slid closed as he kissed her, their lips fitting together in an almost perfect way.

When they finally broke apart for air, they stared at each other for a moment before a yell from Henry drew their attention. He was still playing with Roland, but, to Regina's eye, was a little bit too pointedly not looking at them.

She let out a sigh. Her son really was too smart for his own good.

"I think we've already been discovered," she commented.

Robin followed her gaze, laughing slightly. Looking back at each other they contemplated their situation. Both had gone through a lot of changes in the past year and were, in a way, still reeling from them. Could there really be any hope that whatever this was between them could work?

"What do we do now?" Robin asked, seemingly reading her mind.

Regina stood from the bench and offered him her hand as she answered, "We see what comes next."

With a smile, Robin stood as well, taking her hand in his as they made their way down the hill to join their sons.

They both still had a long way to go, but were content in the knowledge that that they, finally, would be taking the next step together.

THE END


End file.
